Axis
by ThereAreNoLines
Summary: When Hanna suddenly ends their secret relationship, Spencer is forced to examine every aspect of their past to try and figure out what went wrong, while trying to navigate present heartbreak, and the forces that keep them apart. Spencer/Hanna
1. Axis

Spencer was pretending to sleep when Hanna started whispering. "This is so messed up." Her breath against her ear sent a shiver shooting through her, concealed deep inside of her, not breaking through. Her hands tingled, twitched a little, aching for emptiness, for not having her hands in them. Something that had been done alone, in secret all along, now felt natural, and necessary.

But it was. Messed up, that is. This was so messed up, twisted, all of those things. There were other words, but her vocabulary had fallen lax since this had all begun – hanging around Hanna was like a muscle relaxant for her brain. Her thinking slowed down by a couple hundred miles an hour, extra-curriculars seemed less important, and finally fell by the wayside. Her ambition, the thing that had both driven her and poisoned her for her entire life thus far began to disappear. She was left with someone she didn't recognize. And that may have been messed up, but that wasn't the worst.

No, the most messed up part about this was the fact that she was enjoying it, despite everything that had ever told her that she shouldn't. The constant straining for perfection that had encompassed everything since pre-school, her strict, straight-laced family, her previous affections for men…there was nothing that could have predicted this, no previous experience to ready her for this. She had spent the first sixteen years of her life preparing for the rest of it…but nothing could have prepared her for this.

She was unprepared for the quiet autumn nights spent beneath the canopy of her bed in soft sunlight as Hanna rubbed small circles on her back and told her how tense she was. She never expected her to taste so good when they kissed, like sugar, sweet, especially startling in the darkness when Hanna kissed her, without warning, without fear. She wasn't prepared for the dexterous movement of Hanna's fingertips across her stomach, and how it made her insides feel – hot, and cold and melting and freezing, and altogether unsettling, but in the most perfect, hypnotizing way. And then there was the way her stomach flip-flopped when Hanna's blue eyes locked onto hers across the hallway, or the classroom, the way her heart lurched, and she hurt, but only because she wanted her and they had to wait. The anxiety of waiting for, the anticipation, the unspoken promise of what was to come – it was addicting, especially when the expectations were exceeded.

She was so unprepared for this – she, Spencer Hastings, who had a plan for every possible situation and no shortage of back-up plans either. Somehow, in the middle of this plotting and predicting, she'd missed something. Somehow, Hanna had found a way through the labyrinth of Spencer's mind – a labyrinth she had come to realize was slowly collapsing – and did something no one had ever accomplished before…surprised her.

"It's so messed up." Hanna repeated, barely breathing her words, almost inaudible…probably in the interest of not waking her, although that point was sort of moot. "We're messed up. You have all the ambition in the world…Spencer, you're a rockstar." There was a tremor in her voice, and she lightly laid her hand on Spencer's bare stomach. "And…and I think I might love you. But I'm scared that you might love me back, and I don't want you to. Because I'm never going anywhere…let's face it, I'm going to be stuck in Rosewood for the rest of my life." There was a pause, and a sniffle, and Spencer felt something wet against her neck as Hanna pressed her face against her skin.

"Spence, you're going places…big places. You're going to go to Harvard or Oxford or some other big fancy college with a name that sounds old. You're gonna get a PhD or something like that. Impressive. Huge. You're a Hastings, that's what you're supposed to do. The best I'm ever going to be is a buyer at Bergdorf's." A small sob escaped her, and she pressed her face closer into her neck. "I can't live up to that. I can't be what you need…I'm never going to be half of a power couple. You need more. You deserve more. Not me. I…I'm nothing." Hanna was trembling, her voice shattered into pieces, but Spencer was still, part of her praying this was only a dream, that this wasn't happening.

Hanna pressed her lips to the back of Spencer's neck, still whispering. "You're going to have everything. I want you to have everything. Even if that means we can't…" Her voice broke, the sentence ended, and was never finished. "I'm sorry." The trembling finish. "Spencer…God, Spencer, I didn't expect this to happen. But I'm glad it did."

Then the bed shifted, the door closed, and Spencer was alone. She was still, quiet, eyes still closed, still pretending to be asleep. She clutched the sheet to her chest, knuckles white as she hung onto it, desperately, as though hanging onto it would mean that she could keep hold of everything that was slipping away from her.

But she couldn't. It wasn't often Spencer found something she couldn't do, but this was one of those rare times. She couldn't hold onto Hanna. She couldn't hold on to what they'd had. It slipped away, right through her hands. Inability was sickening to her, it always had been, but this…her stomach did somersaults, and a scalding lump rose in her throat. Hanna had calmed her, grounded her. And now she was off, by herself, spinning away from her axis, losing touch with gravity. She was spiraling…and she couldn't hold on.

But Spencer didn't go after Hanna. She just laid there, still, in shock, almost tearing the sheet with her grip, drawing blood as her nails bit into her skin through the fabric. She didn't move. She didn't cry. And she didn't think.

Spencer did nothing. She didn't know what to do. Because this, above all, was something she was completely unprepared for.


	2. Coil

"I'm not going to school." This was the first phrase out of Spencer's mouth as the door to her bedroom was opened. The phrase felt rather foreign on her lips – after all, she'd only missed school willingly about a dozen times before in her life. But she literally could not move from her bed. She could barely breathe. She turned her face into the pillow for an instant, before she balked, pulling back. God, it still smelled like her.

"Are you sick?" It was her mother, Spencer knew this without looking from the moment the door opened. There was a pause. "Spencer, what's wrong?" Concern invaded her voice, more than Spencer was used to – she was worried. And rightfully so, she supposed. Spencer couldn't ever remember being like this before, feeling like this.

Spencer nodded weakly – that was the best way to explain it. "I'm weak…and hot and cold all over." She whispered, her breathing shallow, her voice tepid, quiet. "My head hurts…and my chest." It sounded painfully similar to the flu, but she was telling the truth. Funny how heartbreak felt like an actual disease, like a germ, invading her body and shutting it down slowly, painfully.

She felt her mother's cool hand on the back of her neck. "You do seem to be running a fever." She sighed, standing up, the bed shifting with the motion, but Spencer laid still. "I'll bring you up some medicine later. Get some rest." There were footsteps, and then nothing for an instant, a pause. "Turn that music off, Spencer, it's not doing you any good. It's depressing."  
>Spencer closed her eyes against the influx of tears as soon as the door closed, letting the music play…<p>

'I told you to be balanced, I told you to be kind…'

_ '...now all your love is wasted? Then who the hell was I?' _

_` The flow of music was abruptly cut off. "God, why do you listen to this stuff, Spence?" Hanna said as she shut off the music, running a hand along the wall. "I get that you're all dark and brooding, but come on. That's just depressing."_

_ "It's a beautiful song." Spencer said, as she dared to look up from her notes at the blonde. Caleb was a dead end now, between too many secrets, too many, too-long trips to California and trust that couldn't be repaired. Although she still stung from her split from Toby, she suspected Hanna's wounds were deeper, and would take longer to heal than her own._

_ Hanna paused, getting a far-away look in her eyes for a moment. "…it's depressing." She finally said, glancing back at Spencer._

_ "I'm sorry, I should have thought..." Spencer trailed off, sitting up. "Come on, Han, let's get back to this. We still have a test tomorrow."_

_ "Right. Thanks for reminding me." Hanna flounced over, sounding less than pleased. "That's even more depressing."_

It was hours later, or at least Spencer thought. Her eyes had remained closed, so she couldn't tell by the light. She had remained painfully conscious, aware, never falling asleep for any length of time, not letting go. But time dragged on, so that wasn't accurate either. If she had to guess, she'd say it was two hours after her mother brought her medicine – which she'd spat back out once she was gone – and left her to sleep.

"Mom, it's not – "

"It's me." To this, Spencer opened a bleary eye. No, it wasn't possible, it couldn't be –

"Melissa?" Spencer's voice was weak, catching as she said her sister's name. "What are you doing here?" She asked, legitimately wanting to know. If it had been any other time, she might have snapped at her, but she didn't have the energy, and Melissa didn't sound angry, for once…why provoke her?

"You're not sick." Melissa said, dragging a chair over to Spencer's bed, sitting down.

"Shut up, I have the flu." Spencer shot back, with as much energy as she could muster – not much at all.

"Liar." Melissa leaned back. "You never were good at telling the truth. I know you're not sick."

Spencer rolled her eyes in Melissa's direction. "Then what am I, Melissa?"

"Heartbroken." Melissa replied, leaning back. "I know the feeling, I can tell."

"…I'm over Toby, Melissa, that was ages ago." Spencer replied, her eyes fluttering shut as weakness crept over her again, making her body go slack, her normal rigidity, her stiffness, gone for the moment.

"I wasn't talking about Toby, I was talking about Hanna."

And then Spencer went rigid again.

_ "God, Spence, you're so tense." Hanna's palms drifted over Spencer's shoulders, one sliding as far as her neck. She'd been touched like that before, but…this felt different. Her stomach tensed, but in a good way, a different type of tension, like a coil, twisting tighter, every second Hanna's hands were on her._

_ "I haven't been able to go near a spa since A rubbed him or herself all over Emily." Spencer replied, shifting, biting at her lower lip for an instant. This was strange, but…"That does feel nice, though." She admitted._

_ "Let me take care of it." Hanna said, applying a little more pressure. "Sit up…that's it." She said, as Spencer obliged. "Wow, Spence…could you, you know, stop being you for awhile…it's raking havoc on your back."_

_ "That's…wreaking, Hanna." Spencer said softly, her eyes fluttering shut. "Wreaking havoc."_

_ There was a low chuckle from Hanna that drew a soft smile from Spencer. "That's exactly what I mean." She said, and Spencer could feel her breath against the back of her neck and ear, making the coil twist even tighter, making her shift slightly against Hanna. "Just…relax…"_

There was a long silence as Spencer weakly pushed herself up to stare at Melissa. She trembled slightly, not so much in panic as in shock. Shock that Melissa knew, shock that she wasn't lording it over her, using it to torment her, using it to perpetuate the cycle of abuses their relationship had deteriorated into. "You knew?" She asked, glancing up at her.

"Of course I knew…you might be a good liar, but that's where your subtlety runs out." Melissa said, shifting forward. "You always forget to close your curtains…and you know there's a perfect view from the barn to your windows."

"How very voyeuristic of you." Spencer bit out, swallowing the acid that rose in her throat – she was on her way to ending up like Emily. "Are you going to – "  
>"Tell? No." Melissa said. "This…it's just not my thing to tell about, it's sort of different than a stolen paper, Spencer."<p>

"…not like there's anything to tell, now." Spencer said, curling back up into a ball on her bed. "Melissa, I'm tired, can we talk later?"

Melissa opened her mouth as if to say something, but thought better of it. "Alright, Spencer." She said softly, rising from the chair, hesitating, before leaning forward, giving her an awkward one armed hug. "…feel better."

_"Does that feel any better?" Hanna asked, sitting back, looking up at her with her clear blue eyes as Spencer turned to face her, rubbing her now considerably less tense neck._

_ "Actually…yeah." Spencer said, as it dawned on her, shifting so she was facing Hanna. "…thanks." She added softly, watching Hanna. The blonde lit up at the praise, her smile infectious, drawing a small one from Spencer as well. Out of all of them, Hanna could still smile like she used to…no matter what A did. The other three, you could look at them, and know that something was wrong, something was breaking them, bending them back slowly, but surely. With Hanna, that wasn't the case. You couldn't tell. Perhaps that was just the way she'd always been…putting on a smile while hiding things behind it._

_ But even then, it was a different sort of smile. Knowing Hanna as well as she did, there was a subtle difference when she was hiding something. But there, in Spencer's room, she was hiding nothing. And Spencer wanted to see her smile like that every day from then on._

_ "You have a really pretty smile." Spencer said aloud, before she could stop herself._

_ "You sound like my mom, Spence." Hanna said, with a bit of a laugh. "…but thanks." She added, softer, smoother._

_ Spencer almost didn't hear her, because now she's focused on her smile…namely, her lips, the contour they have to them, what they might taste like…whoa. She physically sat back in shock. Where was this coming from?_

_ "…is everything okay?" Hanna asked, shifting forward to make up the gap, concern etching itself across her features, reworking her smile. _

_ "I, um…" Spencer searched, her mouth finally finding words after only a moment. "I think you missed a knot on my neck." She said, turning again. "Could you get it?"_

_ "Oh…of course." Hanna said, shifting forward so her chest was pressed against Spencer's back, the coil tightening again, to the point where Spencer was sure it would break. She inhaled sharply, reeling._

_ She knew what this was now…she knew what was happening. It was heavy in the air, and there was no doubt Hanna felt it too, with the way she carefully, delicately moved…a tentativeness, a confusion, but also a boldness – whatever this was, Hanna wasn't afraid, or, at least, not very much…and she wasn't letting it hold her back._

It was later when the door opened again, and while Spencer knew better, she told herself it was Melissa coming back – after all, she was relentless. "Melissa, now is not 'later' enough."  
>"It's me." She had known it was her – her insides coiled up again, something that only happened when Hanna was around, although now the feeling was tinged with a heavy uneasiness, a sinking feeling…for once, she didn't want the blonde around. "I guess you heard me last night…"<p>

"Just go." Spencer muttered, not opening her eyes, knowing if she saw her, things would change. She pressed her face deeper into the pillow for a second before pulling away, overloaded by her blasted perfume. She couldn't get away…"Please…just go."

"Spencer…" There was a catch in Hanna's voice, and although Spencer hadn't opened her eyes, she could still see her expression, eyes wide, mouth dropped open slightly, pleading…she could move mountains with those eyes. After all, she'd moved Spencer. "It's for the best…don't do this, it's not worth it. We weren't even…"

"Weren't even what?" Spencer finally opened her eyes, looking up at Hanna. However much she hated that fact now, she was a Hastings…and she couldn't keep her mouth shut. "It's not like you even gave it a chance to be anything."  
>Hanna wrapped her arms around herself, obviously wounded by Spencer's sharp tongue. "It's not like it was easy…I had to break up with you while you were sleeping to even consider it."<p>

"Please just go away…haven't you done enough?" Spencer asked, lifting her eyes to meet Hanna's again. The air was thick again, but not like it used to be. There were unspoken thoughts, hurt feelings floating between them, like clouds, ominous and dark on the horizon. And while silence followed the exchange, the tension in the air was anything but quiet.

_ It was in the air. It hung heavy like moisture, was thick like fog, and spellbinding like magnetism, drawing them closer. There was no fighting, so resistance…it was there, in the room with them, permeating them. It was an out of body experience…Spencer had no control. She tilted her head back slightly as Hanna leaned forward – was drawn forward, really, by the spell that had fallen over them – and gently pressed her lips to her shoulder._

_ Three things happened at once. The contact sent a spark shooting through Spencer, and she gasped, her head tilting back even further. The coil contracted so hard that it felt like it broke, letting the heat it held wash over Spencer. Hanna pulled back, her blue eyes wide in shock. "I'm sorry, I didn't – "_

_ "Don't stop." Spencer said suddenly. Well, her voice did, anyway. She hadn't said it…it hadn't even crossed her mind to say it, but the instant it passed her lips, she meant it. God, how she meant it. "Please…" She added. "Don't stop."_

_ There was the same tentativeness to Hanna's kisses as there was in her movements, the same hesitation, but the same sweetness, and the same understand boldness. Hanna was pushing through the fear – and there was fear – the same as she kissed her way up Spencer's neck; by just doing…by just following what felt good._

_ Spencer hesitated too – this was entirely new territory, and unless threatened, she wasn't extraordinarily brave. But the magnetism, the spell in the room, the now fractured coil in her chest and stomach, pushed her forward, propelled her around, and suddenly, she was kissing Hanna, hands buried in her blonde hair._

_ She tasted like sugar, mint and cherry lipgloss, crossing over her tongue and her senses like an explosion. Hanna was an explosion, really, brilliant, glittering…everything seemed to sharpen, to clear up, pushing everything away with her sheer force. The air was no longer heavy with tension, it was easier to breathe. She worked Hanna back, felt her underneath her, the gentle rising and falling of her chest, and it was like sparks thrummed through her heart and veins…she was alive…not trapped, not cornered, not being stalked, and certainly not a caged animal, if only in that moment._

_ It was a beautiful moment, because, for once, Spencer was alive, unafraid, and oh so very human._


	3. Cacophony

By six o'clock that night, Spencer's ruse of being sick had become so effective that she'd actually made herself sick. Her head ached, and her thoughts felt thick, her heartbeat lethargically pushing through them as she laid sprawled out on her cool sheets, covers tossed aside in a fit of fever. Her stomach lurched occasionally, but it was the only thing that let her know she was still alive, and not dead, or some sort of zombie. (Aria had made her watch too many zombie movies, and she was now inescapably paranoid.) And, while for awhile, she was sure that it was just the biological fallout from her earlier exposure to Hanna, it became increasingly apparent that her affliction was indeed much more than that.

"We thought you were dying." Emily said, as Aria folded her fingers around a cup of her favorite Starbucks order – not that it much mattered, her taste buds were shot. "I mean…you missed a _physics _test. You told me once you'd rather have A run you off the road and over cliff before you missed a day of Mr. Denton's physics class."

"Hey, hey, hey, let's not give the bitch any ideas." Aria said warily, sipping at her own coffee. "I mean, clearly whoever it is is listening in on us and – "

"Can we _not _talk about this right now." Spencer groaned, her head aching at the very thought of their still unmasked tormentor, taking her mind off of thoughts of Hanna for a brief but blessed second. But they returned, a doubly so, and her entire body's ache intensified as she pulled her pillow over her head, trying and failing to ignore the scent of Hanna's perfume that lingered so heavily on the fabric…

_ "Um…honeydew?" Spencer's tone was lightly uncertain as she traced along the strip of skin that was exposed by Hanna's too-short shirt, fingers deftly drifting along the curve where her spine met her tailbone, concealing her smirk as she noticed the goosebumps rising on her skin._

_ "Wrong." Hanna said, and the urge to smirk went away. The blonde's blue eyes remained on her magazine. Spencer was fascinated with the way that Hanna read magazines. It was like a rhythm, she never missed the beat, swiftly and skillfully turning the pages, never slipping, never fumbling, eyes quickly scanning the image – she hardly ever paused to read the articles – before decisively flipping past it. It was a strange thing to fixate on, Spencer knew that, but it was the one thing about Hanna that was ordered, and well placed, and in that, out of place. "God, you are so bad at this."_

_ "Well, forgive me for not knowing the intricacies of the perfume industry." Spencer said softly, sliding her touch further up Hanna's back, a small laugh bubbling in the back of her throat as she felt Hanna's back arch slightly under her touch._

_"Mmm, don't stop." Hanna whispered, hands shaking a little, causing a pause in the rhythmic page turning. Spencer considered this a victory.  
><em>

"Anyway, Spencer, we were worried." Emily was saying, as Spencer regained consciousness from what felt like a concussion of a flashback. "This…isn't like you."

I don't even know what's like me anymore, Spencer thought to herself, as she shifted the pillow off her face, bundling herself in her sheets as a chill set in – probably from that realization alone. She really didn't, and perhaps this fact was the one that was making her sick. She didn't have a plan, she didn't know where she was going, she had been surprised by Hanna and surprised by herself, and now her system was paralyzed as it tried to fight off the shock that had flooded it over the past several weeks. This sort of chance might not have been a problem for anyone else, but she was Spencer Hastings and anything that pushed her off the path she had taken was nothing less than a germ or a pathogen, unwanted, unwelcome, and entirely unfamiliar.

"Yeah, you really haven't been yourself lately – " Aria paused midsentence, and while Spencer wasn't looking at her, she could hear the keys on her phone clicking. "Hanna can't make it…"

"Of course." Spencer used every ounce of willpower to keep from speaking the snide remark, but it was not enough, her voice biting and rough. The rest remained a silent scream. She was the one who made me like this! She's the only one who can fix it and she's not coming!

She could feel Emily's quizzical look even without looking at her. "…did you and Hanna have a fight or something, Spence?"

"…or something." Was all she could manage to say, closing her eyes again.

_"I can do you one better." Spencer whispered, turning Hanna over in her arms and kissing her. This was not a gesture she would have inherently appreciated herself – she hated most surprises, or at least losing the position of control – but one she knew Hanna loved, by the way her lips parted instantly, and they way her fingers curled into the front of her shirt, and the soft, surprised, but content noise she made as she kissed back. And, while she knew Hanna loved the surprise kisses, she always ended up loving them more._

_She felt Hanna's hand shift up between them, working through her buttons quickly – something she'd managed to perfect through her magazine flipping, no doubt. Her manicured nails dipped beneath the folds of the fabric, biting slightly into her skin as she began to push the shirt off. Spencer inhaled sharply, her mouth still on Hanna's, her trembling fingers tracing pathways through her hair as she pulled the blonde closer to her, needing to be next to her, needing to feel her move against her. it was frightening, really, how power Hanna had over her, how much she'd come to need her in her life._

_What was even more frightening, however, was Spencer's mother's sharp knock on her door about half a minute later, interrupting what had dissolved into Spencer's hand under Hanna's bra clip and every button on her own person undone. Spencer wasn't as deft as Hanna, but when her secrets were threatened, she swore she could do anything, including buttoning up her plaid shirt and jeans in about thirty seconds._

_There was another knock just as Spencer finished. "Yeah, mom?" She called back, her voice wavering just slightly, as Veronica stuck her head in the door. Spencer spared a glance over at Hanna to make sure she was decent, and she was, although, as Spencer continued to glance at her during the conversation, it was looking less and less like she'd just ended a heavy make-out session and more like she'd swallowed a tray of ice cubes._

_Spencer's mother left without any serious inquiry, but she barely had a time to breathe sigh of relief before Hanna began noisily gathering up her magazines, moving about in that tense way, each movement sharp and deliberate, letting Spencer know that she was angry, or at least frustrated. And it only took Spencer a second to figure out what it was, reaffirmed as Hanna began to speak again. "Should I just start coming and going through the window so your family doesn't see me?"_

_"Hanna…" Although Spencer knew the secrecy had been hard on Hanna, she had never seen her so angry over it. "Don't you think you're overreacting just a little? I mean, we talked about this – "_

_"No, Spencer." Hanna cut her off, looking up with her, and in that moment, Spencer swore she'd never be on the receiving end of one of Hanna's hurt expressions ever again if she could help it. It was too heartbreaking. "You talked. I listened. And I am done just listening, Spencer. Done. I want to be your girlfriend. Not just the chick you make out with when your parents aren't home." Spencer just stared, because that had been the first time the word 'girlfriend' had been mentioned at all over the course of their relationship, or whatever it was considered._

_"Hanna, I – "_

_"Save it, Spencer." Hanna cut her off again, putting her jacket on so viciously that Spencer was sure the sleeves would rip. "You'll just give me an excuse bout how your parents would hate you even more, and then put your hands up my skirt and make me forgive you, and I'm sorry, I just can't do that right now." She turned to the door, pausing. "I'll just…see you at school." There was a heavy shy, a flouncy shake of the head, and Hanna was gone, leaving Spencer to wonder what the hell had just happened, and how – or even if – she could fix it.  
><em>

"What happened?" Emily's worry was so evident on her face that Spencer could practically hear her expression. "Why would you and Hanna fight?"

"Are you kidding, Emily?" Aria asked, just as Spencer finally opened her eyes again. "Spencer and Hanna are complete opposites, of course they're going to fight…it wasn't a bad one, though, was it Spence?"

Spencer gave a noncommittal shrug, pushing herself into a sitting position, riding out the resulting head rush by gripping at the sheets to keep herself steady. "I guess." Was the only answer she could feasibly give – to tell them it was one of the worst fights they'd ever had would not only be somewhat untrue, since it wasn't exactly a fight, but it would require explanation, something she still wasn't ready to do. "I don't know." She added on, as an afterthought, because she honestly didn't know what had taken place. It had come out of nowhere, hitting her like a freight train at midnight. So, even if she could talk about it, she wouldn't have had the slightest idea of where to start or what to say.

"Do you want me to talk to her?" Now, there was confusion mixed with Emily's worry. "She did seem a bit…weird when I saw her earlier, if there's something I can do to help.

Spencer shook her head. "No…if it's going to be fixed, I have to be the one to do it, Em…but thanks for the offer." She sighed, willingly squeezing Emily's hand as it was offered, easing some of the ache in her empty hands, but not completely, the comfort hollow without the familiar shape and feel of Hanna's hands in hers.

Spencer contemplated her hand, pulling it back from Emily's as she thought, tracing her fingers lightly over the divets and swells of her palm. Could she go without holding Hanna's hands for the rest of her life, or at least for the foreseeable future? Could she ever find a way to move past this sudden shock, this event that had somehow turned her well-ordered world upside down? Could she?

After a minute of staring at her hand, (and a minute of her friends questioning her sanity, no doubt,) Spencer knew the answer.

And it was no.

"I have to go." She said suddenly, practically launching herself out of bed, ignoring her dizziness, pushing past her weakness. She needed to go, now, before it was too late, before something got in her way, before the situation, so badly broken, became unfixable.

Aria had her by the arm before she could take two steps out of bed. "Spence, you're sick, you need to rest." She insisted, holding on tight. For someone so tiny, she had a strong grip.

"I'm fine…I just need some air, I've been cooped up in this room all day." Spencer pleaded. "I just want to go for a drive."

Aria opened her mouth to say something, but was cut off by Emily, suddenly. "Let her go, Aria." She said, rising as well, giving Spencer a poignant look. Spencer met Emily's dark gaze, and in that moment, Spencer knew Emily had realized something more than a fight had transpired between Hanna and herself. And, if it had been anyone else other than Emily that knew, she would have been frightened, but instead, she was merely filled with a quiet apprehension. "We should be going anyway."

Aria looked between the two girls, now the only one still in the dark. "…fine." She finally said, upon realizing she wasn't going to get anything out of the two of them, and moving out of the room.

Spencer turned to face Emily as a heavy silence fell over the room. There were a lot of things she could have said, a lot of things she should have said, but they all died on her tongue as Emily crossed the room, placing a hand on Spencer's shoulder. "I understand." She said softly, and with those two words, Spencer suddenly, somehow, felt that much better.

Spencer nodded once, burying herself in Emily's arms for a brief moment, her comfort no longer seeming as hollow as it had before. Emily released her, and with an answering nod, she left, leaving Spencer to grab her jacket and climb down the trellis outside her window, so her mother wouldn't see, laughing into the empty air as she gripped the cold, rickety wood.

Hanna would have appreciated the irony.

_ Spencer drummed her fingers along the steering wheel as she sat in front of Hanna's house, the beat in contrast to the sound of the windshield wipers, but Spencer loved cacophony. She enveloped herself in it, especially when things were so out of whack – it made her feel more ordered, and less like she was falling apart. She didn't know how long she had been sitting in front of Hanna's house in her car, in the rain, and she didn't know what she was going to say or do. So she closed her eyes, listened to the rain, and drummed along._

_ So, when the door was suddenly wrenched open, cold air spilling in, the noise of the rain suddenly loud and in her face, Spencer almost screamed. Almost being the operative word, as the hand that clamped over her mouth as the door slammed shut effectively cut her off. "My mom is trying to sleep, would you relax?" Hanna said roughly, pulling her sweatshirt tighter around her as she removed her hand from Spencer's mouth._

_ "Hanna? What the hell?" Spencer collapsed back in her seat, hand to her chest. "Jesus, you scared me. Do you always have to do that?"_

_ "Do what?" Hanna shot back, still clearly upset from earlier. "You were creeping in front of my house, what else was I supposed to do?"_

_ "I don't know, but I'm pretty sure scaring me half to death isn't on that list." Spencer snapped back, feeding off of her energy and instantly regretting it from the way Hanna shut down, sinking deeper into the chair. Spencer faced forward after a minute, hating it when Hanna was upset._

_ "Why are you here?" Hanna's voice was a lot less sharp, and quieter when she spoke again, what had to be at least ten minutes later. "I…I said I'd call."_

_ "You didn't." Spencer didn't turn to look at Hanna – she couldn't. "And I needed to talk to you, so…here I am."_

_ "So talk." Hanna shrugged, shifting in her seat. "Say what you need to, but make it quick, I've got homework." She muttered. Spencer swallowed hard as she took this in. The distance between them was so thick and palpable she could taste it, and it made her want to throw up. She had been kissing her only a few hours beforehand, and now she could barely stand to look at her. If anything was nauseating, it was this, the situation she'd managed to put them in, with the hurt rolling off of Hanna in waves. The idea that she could have hurt her this badly…well, in all honesty, Spencer knew she would rather die than ever hurt Hanna like this again._

_ "I wanted to apologize." Spencer finally said, her eyes locked on the steering wheel, heart clenching at the thought of what Hanna must look like, silent tears rolling down her cheeks, arms wrapped around herself as she pretended not to listen, but was actually hanging on every word. "You know, in an application where I couldn't just talk you out of your skirt. I mean…really apologize. You know the last thing I ever want to do is hurt you."_

_ "Yeah, well, you do a fine job of showing that." Spencer had to resist the urge to physically wince at the sting of Hanna's words._

_ "I guess you don't have to believe me." Spencer started again, leaning back against her chair, eyes trained on the window, and the raindrops sticking to the glass, illuminated by a distant streetlight. "There's really no excuse for how I…what I've done to you. You're too special to keep hidden. And yeah, my parents are…a big, big part of it, but…mostly I'm scared that…you're too special for me. I try so hard all of the time, and nothing is ever good enough for anyone, and you just…you don't have to try, and everyone loves you." Spencer didn't realized how close to crying she was until her voice broke. "And you're the one perfect thing I have in my life, and I'm afraid that once it sees the light, it will go to hell like everything else."_

_ "Spencer…" Hanna said her name immediately after she began talking, but fell to silence as Spencer leaned her head against the window. She closed her eyes against the tears that began to rush in, jumping slightly as Hanna began to talk again. "I don't know where you got the idea that I'm perfect, but I'm not…I'm the one that's not good enough for you. You're perfect. You're Spencer Hastings, you're the definition of perfect. I was just afraid that…that you were ashamed of me." Hanna fell to silence again, and Spencer dared to look over at her. Her silhouette was illuminated by the porch light, a single track of tears tracing down her left cheek, crystalline eyes fixed on a distant point outside the windshield. Spencer had never seen her look as heartbreakingly beautiful as she did in that moment. She leaned forward, shifting in the driver's seat, taking Hanna's chin and turning her head so that she was looking at her._

_ "I could never be ashamed of someone like you." Spencer whispered, taking in her expression for a moment, before closing the distance and capturing her lips with her own, dropping her hand to the back of her neck. "You are perfection." She whispered against her lips, not moving away from her._

_ Hanna tried to pull away slightly, trembling. "Someone could see…"_

_"Let them."  
><em>

"What the hell are you doing here, Spencer?" Spencer jumped, a small yelp of surprise escaping from the back of her throat as she was jerked from her reverie by Hanna, as she had done before, vaulting into her car without warning. "You can't just keep sitting out here in your car like a lost puppy, hoping I'll let you in. What do you want?"

Spencer was so taken aback by Hanna's tone of voice that she couldn't find her own right away, just looking at her. She had never heard her that sharp before. "I…what is your problem?" She finally asked. "I didn't…you broke up with _me._ Why are you so angry? I'm the only one who has a right to be angry."

"If you're going to sit here and tell me how I should or should not feel, I'm getting out of this car." Hanna said, no less tense than before, arms crossed tightly over her chest, eyes fixed away from Spencer, out of the windshield. The brunette bit her lower lip to keep it from trembling, looking away. She had never imagined, not once, that Hanna was capable of hurting her like this.

"Just tell me what I did." Spencer finally whispered, head bowed, eyes on her hands in her lap. "Please, just…just tell me what I did, so I can fix it, or take it back or apologize. I can't…I can't go on living like this, I made myself sick, I…I couldn't get out of bed today. I've never…no one has ever meant so much to me that I've gotten sick over them. And you leaving me…it hurts more than any break-up I've ever gone through, I just…" She inhaled sharply as her voice broke, wiping at her eyes. "Hanna, please…I just want to know what I did so this can end. I can't live like this, I can't live without you."

There was silence from Hanna's end, and Spencer couldn't bring herself to look at her, dissolving into silent tears. Her stomach turned with anxiety, and self loathing – what was so bad about her that Hanna couldn't stay?

"Why do you think it was something you did?" The sound of Hanna's voice made Spencer turn. Hanna was looking at her, her steely expression faltering as she saw Spencer's tears. "Why do you think it's your fault?"

"Because it has to be." Spencer gasped, feeling manic, out of control, her grip on the world slipping away into the cacophony that her life had become. "It has to be my fault, Hanna, because you're perfect, and there's nothing you could ever do that I wouldn't be absolutely enthralled with, and you're flawless, so if something's wrong, it _has_ to be my fault!"

"It's not you, Spencer." Hanna said, shifting away from her slightly, clearly somewhat disturbed by her outburst.

"Then tell me." Spencer said, trying to regain control of her breathing. "Please…tell me, so I can stop hating myself over it."

"I can't." Hanna whispered, burying herself deeper into her jacket. "Spencer, stop, I can't tell you."

"Tell me." Spencer insisted again, gripping the steering wheel with one hand, trying to find something solid to keep hold of, to keep her grounded in the chaos she was slowly becoming.

"I can't." Hanna insisted, although her expression and her voice were steadily becoming softer, her concern overwhelming her apparent need to be stoic.

"Please." Spencer whispered, shifting over to be closer to her, needing to feel close to her somehow – that was the only way she could ever feel better, she knew that. "Hanna please, just tell me."

"I can't." Came the resultant whisper from the blonde, as she leaned in. The tension had turned to magnetism, their history, their attraction too difficult to ignore. "Spencer…please, I can't…" Hanna's breath audibly hitched, and before Spencer knew what was happening, Hanna was kissing her, fisting a hand in her dark hair, dragging her closer.

Spencer had no choice but to kiss her back, and why would she refuse? The instant it registered that Hanna was kissing her, everything felt right again. The storm, the cacophony, the chaos that she had become in her absence fell back into place. Like the hypnotic, clockwork turning of magazine pages, as long as Hanna was in her life, the rhythm was one she could follow.


	4. Grace

_There are plenty of places to hide in Rosewood, but only if you have the proper motivation. Spencer could practically hear Alison as she led the trek through the woods in the park. She had been right – Ali was always right – but this instance in particular was different. Spencer had never really, truly grasped what she had meant by that. For the most part, she just thought it was one of those cryptic sayings Ali lived by, and there wasn't much she could do to understand._

_ But then Hanna happened. And Spencer understood perfectly. Never before had she had something she'd so desperately needed to hide, never had she had something she was so terrified of losing. That fear, of being discovered, of losing Hanna, of losing the connection she'd found with her…she could barely handle it. And that fear was the motivation she needed to find every single creative place to hide in Rosewood…some more than others._

_ "Spencer Hastings, where the hell are you taking me?" Hanna snapped, as she stumbled over some tree roots. Spencer watched her as she stood to the side, holding a tree branch aside so the smaller girl could pass. "I swear to God, if I find one mosquito bite, you aren't getting any – "_

_ "I brought bug spray!" Spencer said defensively, cutting her off. "You just refused to put any on, so if you get bitten, it's your fault, Hanna."_

_ For some reason, in the fading light and spotty shadows, Hanna's fallen expression was just that much more devastating, and Spencer felt her stomach turn just looking at her, and how sad she looked with the shadows playing off the contours of her face, and the fading light in her glassy eyes. God, she hated yelling at her. Every time it happened, she always swore she'd never do it again, just so she'd never have to see her look sad again. But Spencer was Spencer and Hanna was Hanna – Hanna would do something frustrating, and Spencer would get frustrated – it was the vicious cycle of their relationship. It couldn't be helped._

_ "I'm sorry." Spencer said softly, reaching for her hand, stroking the dip between her second and third knuckles with her thumb, walking backwards as she pulled her past the last obstacle and into the clearing. "I just…you've been kind of off all day, and I got frustrated, and…I guess I just wish you'd tell me what's wrong instead of taking it out on me and the mosquitoes…as gross as they are, they don't quite deserve it." She sighed, sitting down on the forlorn picnic table with its fading paint brushing against her khaki skirt. "…talk to me?"_

_ Hanna buried herself deeper into her oversized sweatshirt – a strange choice for her, as Spencer now noticed – casting her clear blue eyes at Spencer before carefully climbing up into her lap, knees gripping her hips, hands pressed to Spencer's shoulders as she looked down at her. It was then that Spencer noticed that the look in Hanna's eyes wasn't from being chastised, but from being scared. "You're shaking." Spencer whispered, tilting her head back to look up at her. "Baby, what's wrong?"_

_ "…I have something I need to tell you." Hanna whispered, her voice trembling as bad as her body. "And I'm scared to, because…because…" Hanna faltered suddenly, leaving an instant of dead air between them, before she closed the distance and kissed her, the trembling ceasing as their lips touched. For a second, Spencer forgot about the potentially life-changing thing Hanna had to say to her, and kissed back - how could she concentrate on anything else, when Hanna was kissing her? But the moment of wonder passed, and Spencer turned away, unable to handle not knowing._

_ "What is it, babe?" Spencer whispered, reaching out and touching her cheek. Hanna almost winced at the touch, biting her lower lip, shaking again._

_ "Spencer…" Hanna trailed off, finally closing her eyes, leaning her head down. "…I think Caleb might have gotten me pregnant."  
><em>

* * *

><p>"Hanna!" The name fell from Spencer's lips with a gasp as her eyes snapped open to the pale sunlight, her hand fisted in the white sheets as she fell fully awake, shivering from the remnants of a cold sweat lingering on her skin, and…well, suffice it to say that it had been a <em>very<em> good dream.

She buried her head in the pillow, breathing deep as she tried to calm herself, eyes fluttering shut. Every hour, like clockwork, she had woken up, reaching for the girl that had been with her in her dreams, her previous fever gone, and another reignited by seeing Hanna, by being with her again that night before. Normally it wouldn't have affected her so strongly, but after two days of absence, and the staunch way she was ripped away from her, it was like she was breathing again after drowning, her body going into overdrive, trying to take in as much of her as she could, as fast as she could.

Spencer pushed herself into a sitting position, smiling as she threw the covers off of herself, the realization coming with her increasing wakefulness. _She had Hanna back._ She dressed in a whirlwind, unable to keep the smile off her face as she practically tripped over herself on the staircase. She couldn't remember being this happy in…well, in ages, with everything that had happened to her, but none of that mattered, because _she had her girlfriend back._

"Slow down!" Spencer was practically smacked in the face by her mother as she tore through the kitchen, stopping short. "What's gotten into you? You're laid up in bed for two days, and now you're spastic and rushing to get out of here? Just…sit down and eat something, Spencer."

"Can't." Spencer rushed past her mother, grabbing her bag, her enthusiasm still at full force. "Have to get to school…you know, get all my make-up work, and reassure everyone that I didn't die." Before there was any more protest from her mother, Spencer practically jumped the threshold of the door and left her mother in the dust.

She had her _girlfriend _back. No one, and nothing, could stop her from getting to school as fast as she could.

Spencer ran every stoplight, every stop sign, broke every speed limit, and managed not to get pulled over – good karma or something, she was sure of it, and arrived to school just as her friends were walking up the front path. She practically vaulted out of her car, launching herself at them, marveling at the energy she had coursing through her – it was seemingly boundless. Perhaps it was just the feeling of being well rested and happy after two long days of wallowing in melancholy and exhaustion – she couldn't be sure.

"God, Spencer, please don't tell me you got a Big Gulp full of coffee…again." Aria said, as she buckled under the weight of Spencer throwing her arms around her shoulder. "That was scary enough the first time."

"We still have flashbacks." Emily agreed, looking over at her as she stepped out from under her arm. "Seriously, why are you so happy? You were miserable last night." There was a deeper question implied in Emily's words, and at first, Spencer didn't quite understand. But Emily then gave her a look, ad she remembered – Emily knew.

"Just caught my second wind, I guess." Spencer finally answered – cryptic enough so that Aria wouldn't get it, but Emily would. "Things…took a turn for the better. And I feel great."

Emily smiled, reaching forward and squeezing Spencer's hand for a minute. "That's awesome…I'm happy for you, Spence." She said, her voice tinged with a bit too much sincerity to just be casual.

Aria gave the two a look. "Me too…" She said, her voice. Spencer forced herself not to wince or react – Aria was one of her best friends, yes, but she couldn't know. Not yet. Not before she was ready. (And in her current effervescent, elated state of mind, she wasn't sure she'd be able to keep the secret, if asked.) With Emily, it had been easy enough, but was still nerve-wracking. The idea of another person knowing – even as sure as she was that Aria would be more than accepting of her and Hanna – made Spencer's stomach turn.

"Hey look, it's Hanna!" Emily suddenly said, and Spencer was elated for more than one reason as Emily's interjection cut off Aria from saying more, or asking the question Spencer didn't want to answer. She cast her dark gaze upward, searching for Hanna amidst the crowd, a smile pulling up the corners of her lips as she laid eyes on her, and all of her controlled chaos, blonde hair, blue eyed, designer dress glory, and she swore her heart stopped.

"Hey, Aria, I left my…thing…in your car, you know what, just come with me." Spencer very dimly registered Emily's distraction of Aria, the words passing in one ear and out the other, as _it_ hit her. The idea that Hanna had been right the night she'd left…right about Spencer loving her. While this sudden realization was tainted with a hint of fear for a moment, that moment passed, and Spencer was all but consumed by it.

"Hanna!" Spencer rushed forward, her flats scraping against the sidewalk as she moved to Hanna, her heart swelling with the feeling of being completely, truly, in love, for the first time in her life. "Hanna, wait!" Spencer's enthusiasm wasn't affected as Hanna refused both to turn and to wait for her. She probably just didn't want to seem too eager, didn't want to risk spoiling their secret. "Come on, Hanna…" She pleaded, taking her by the arm.

"Oh, hey, Spencer." Hanna replied, her voice flat, an expression almost like a grimace crossing her features. A greasy wave of apprehension crashed over Spencer, a tiny knot of panic buried in her body. What was wrong? What had changed?

"Hanna…" Spencer started slowly. Even before their break-up, when they were hiding, Hanna had never been this cold to her, never been this distant. "…we need to talk." She finally said, jerking her into an empty classroom, causing Hanna to yelp, and almost fall over, straightening up as Spencer shut the door.

"Spencer! What the hell?" The blonde snapped, blue eyes like ice as she shot a glare at Spencer. "What are you doing?"

Spencer's lips parted slightly in shock, and she tugged her books tight to her chest, spiraling in confusion, and on the edge of devastation. "Hanna…what do you mean?" She asked, trying not to let her voice break. "We – "

"We what, Spencer?" Hanna hissed. Spencer was used to hearing Hanna's sharp tongue, but never directed towards her, and it was more painful than she could ever admit. "We did it in the back of your car last night? Yeah, we did. And you're a great lay, but it was a moment of weakness, Spencer, and it's not going to happen again." There was a pause. "Don't go thinking it meant something, because it didn't." She added, her voice a little softer, less sharp – although no less cold or cutting to Spencer – as she pushed past her, out of the empty classroom.

There's always a moment. Before everything crashes down, and goes to hell, there's always a moment. And, for that moment, Spencer stood there, eyes trained on her shoes, books held to her chest, and expression dead set against the inevitable tears. If anyone had seen her, they wouldn't have been able to tell that anything was wrong, that her heart had just been shattered.

That was the beauty of heartbreak, Spencer supposed, later on. Even in its harshness, in all its unexpectedness, it had the grace to give her that moment. She made it all the way to the privacy of her car before the moment ended, and she could no longer hold back her tears.

How could it not have meant anything? Spencer though, as she cried. How could _she _not mean anything?

* * *

><p><em>Spencer stared at Hanna. Just stared. What else could she do? She certainly couldn't say anything, she could barely think, her admission was that startling, that breathtaking, that for an instant, the always prepared Spencer Hastings was at a complete loss as to what to do. "…you're what?" She finally gasped, withdrawing her hands from where they were perched on Hanna's thighs.<em>

_ "I…I don't know for sure or anything." Hanna's voice was high in her panic. "I…my cycle has been really messed up with the whole 'A' thing, so I didn't notice, but I haven't had it since the month he left, and we…well, when he left, we – "_

_ "I don't need the details." Spencer said, pushing Hanna off her lap so she could stand, and move, do something to expend all of the sudden tension that was wracking her body. How did she even deal with this? "What am I supposed to do here, Hanna?" She asked, more acerbically than she probably should have, but she couldn't stop herself. How could she not be angry, when she was so suddenly thrown into this position? "You're asking me to accept a lot very quickly, and I'm not sure that's something I can do."_

_ "Spencer, please…" Spencer turned away from Hanna, unable to look her in the face, knowing her expression, and knowing it would only make things worse. "I didn't ask for this, Spencer. I didn't want this. And I know you're angry, but I am scared." She heard Hanna take a shaky breath. "I am scared, Spencer, and I need you."_

_ "Just…stop." Spencer held her hand up, fishing her keys from her pocket. She couldn't deal with this. Her lungs locked up from the tension, and she could barely breathe, each attempt sticking in her throat. "I can't do this right now, this is way too much." She shook her head, tossing her keys in Hanna's direction. "I'll walk, I just…I need a minute to think, or I'm going to start shouting and do something I really regret, so just…give me a minute, Hanna."_

_ Spencer turned and walked, only stopping when Hanna's voice rang above the crunching of years of dead leaves beneath her feet. "Spencer, wait…" _

_ Spencer didn't even turn, she just kept on walking. She had to; she couldn't face this right now. "…a minute, Hanna…a minute."_

* * *

><p>Spencer clutched at her chest as she cried, eyes closed to the world as her heart wrenched painfully, head pressed against the cold steering wheel. She should have known, really. With the way her luck had turned out lately, she should have known that this wasn't going to work out. It was stupid to get her hopes up…it was a lesson she had learned a thousand times over.<p>

So why did she still do it? Spencer Hastings, the wise one, the cynic, the smart girl who looked before she leapt, and measure everything three times before she cut it, and yet here she was, making assumptions and stepping over proverbial cliffs for the love of this one blonde girl, baseless, unfounded, reckless…and dangerous. And still, she did it. Every single time. Either she was addicted to the rush like she was to caffeine…or Hanna meant just that much to her.

Spencer kept a white knuckled grip on the steering wheel, trying to force herself to calm down, swallowing hard, the pain radiating through her chest as she made herself stop crying, no easy feat, even for her She couldn't remember the last time she had cried so hard over someone – even Toby didn't even come close, and that one d been rough. She might have sat there and thought about what that meant, had there not been a sharp knock on her window just then.

"Jesus, Jason!" She gasped, as she powered down the window, clutching at her chest as she stared up at her older half-brother who had appeared out of nowhere. "You scared me."

"You alright?" He asked, leaning in the open window slightly, looking at her. "And don't even bother answering yes, because I know you're not. You've been sitting here for an hour."

"An hour?" Spencer glanced in the rearview mirror to gauge how red her eyes were – very – before shifting her gaze to the clock, to find that it was indeed an hour since school had begun. "…I was only here for a minute." She looked down at her hands in her lap – it really had only felt like a minute.

"What's up?" Jason insisted, reaching out, turning her head so that she was looking at him. "I get it if you don't want to tell me, per say, but it looks like you need to tell someone, and I've got ears…you don't have to give me details or anything."

Spencer turned away from his touch, but remained looking at him, considering what he had said. That was part of the pain of the whole thing…keeping it inside. Clearly hurting in some way, but never being able to tell anyone. Not even Emily, who knew the barest details, or Melissa, who knew, but who she still couldn't find it in herself to trust. Looking at Jason, she saw someone who wasn't really enough of a part of her life to judge her, but was still invested enough to listen. And maybe that was what she needed. "I've been seeing someone." She started out, her voice scratchy from the crying. "And…we broke up a few days ago, but last night, I…I thought we reconciled, and this morning, they…they shot me down and pretty much called me a whore, and I don't even know what I did to break us up, and…and…" Spencer cut herself off, afraid she'd say too much.

"Did you ask him?" Jason asked, after a moment, raising an eyebrow as Spencer finally looked back up at him, only allowing a second to ironically appreciate the choice of pronoun. "About what went wrong?"

"Well, yeah." Spencer shrugged. "Of course. And he either won't tell me, or I get some crap excuse that I know isn't true, and…I'm losing my mind over this, I need to know what happened."

"Yeah, you do." Jason said, after a minute. "And you deserve to know. Go over to his house and refuse to leave until he tells you. Because you do deserve better than this, Spencer." He patted her car. "I've got to go, but…take care of yourself, okay? Because this kind of sucks, and you don't deserve a life that sucks."

It took Spencer a minute to find something to say. "…thanks, Jason." She finally got out, looking after him as he finally strolled away from her car. After a moment, her trembling fingers turned the key, and she was pulling out of the parking lot. Jason was right, she realized, on the drive home. She deserved better than a half-assed break-up speech and excuses. And she was going to get it.

* * *

><p><em> Spencer didn't get out of her car for a second, worriedly working her hands in circles as she sat there. Hanna was probably not even going to answer the door to her, not after the way she'd acted, not after the way she'd taken that news. Yes, it was shocking, and yes, it was jarring, and yes, it was potentially life altering, for the both of them, but…she shouldn't have walked out like that. She'd known that the instant she'd walked away from the park, and she knew it now. The only thing she didn't really know was how to fix what she'd done.<em>

_ Finally, she pushed herself out of the car, bag on her shoulder as she carefully made her way over to Hanna's window, throwing two pebbles against the glass – their signal – before climbing up the trellis, holding her breath as she waited to see if Hanna would come to the window. The time slowly ticked by, one minute, five minutes, ten, twenty – well, not quite twenty, but Spencer was sure it got close to that before the window slid open._

_ "What do you want?" Hanna asked, standing back, framed by the open window as Spencer struggled to pull herself up onto the windowsill, resting her arms on it. The blonde's blue eyes were rimmed red from earlier crying, no doubt, and Spencer felt her stomach twist at the thought. "I shouldn't even be talking to you."_

_ "Well, you did kind of drop a bombshell on me." Spencer said, rather thrown by how angry she was still. "How was I supposed to react?"_

_ "Shutting and locking the window…" Hanna muttered, moving to do as she said, he window halfway shut before Spencer could stop her, shoving her arms in its path._

_ "Sorry…sorry, I just…I need to talk to you." Spencer said, balancing perilously on the weak latticework with only her feet, holding the window open with her arms. "Please?"_

_ "…whatever." Hanna finally muttered, disappearing from the window frame as Spencer finally managed to haul herself trough Hanna's window, only after flashing half the street – in retrospect, doing this in a skirt was hardly a good idea – and dropping to the floor._

_ "Look." Spencer said, standing and brushing herself off, dropping her bag by Hanna's bed as she approached. "I don't think I overreacted. I really didn't, I mean…this is huge. Beyond huge, which I'm sure you know. Anyway, I know I shouldn't have walked away from you like that, not at that moment." She wrung her hands in tight, nervous circles, string at them. "And that's what I'm sorry for."_

_ Hanna was partially reclined on her bed, errantly flipping through a magazine. Spencer could feel her tension from a few feet away, but she could also feel it weakening. "Go on." Hanna finally said, putting the magazine down, but not looking at her._

_ "I just…you need to realize how big of a change this is going to be for my life too." Spencer said, getting on the bed with Hanna, kneeling in front of her. "You're the kind of girl that's going to keep the baby, which I love that about you. But, I mean…I'm your girlfriend. I'd be there too. Doctor's appointments, and letting you break my hand when it comes, and buying clothes and painting a nursery with badly rendered versions of Mother Goose, and holding it, and staying up late making sure it's fever doesn't go above 104…I needed a minute to accept those changes to my life, and I have. I've had my minute, and I'm okay with that. I just needed you to know that."_

_ About halfway through her speech, Hanna had looked up at her, and by the end, her eyes were swimming with tears. "You'd do that for me?" She asked, whispering, reaching out and touching Spencer's leg, just above where her knee sock stopped, fingers trembling against her skin. "I can't think of anyone else who would do that for me."_

_ "Well, I'm your girlfriend." Spencer shifted closer, falling to Hanna's side finally, stretching out along the bed. "Of course I'd do that for you."_

_ Hanna buried herself against Spencer's chest. "I'm sorry." She said softly, trembling fingertips trailing along Spencer's neckline as she pushed herself closer. "I was just scared. I shouldn't have been so mean."_

_ "I shouldn't have been so rash." Spencer answered, pushing a hand through the blonde's hair, laying back so that she was face the ceiling and Hanna was laying atop her chest. "And, to make up for it, I did a couple of things." She said, reaching over and grabbing her bag, pulling out a small card. "I got you an appointment with my gynecologist, she's super nice, and super private, so if you don't want your mom to know yet, she won't tell her. And I managed to get my parents to unfreeze my bank account, and I picked you up some pre-natal vitamins." She pressed the bottle into Hanna's hands, which immediately dropped it to the ground as Hanna kissed her._

_ "You're too good to me." The blonde whispered, as she settled down against her chest. A moment passed, a moment where everything felt right once again, and even though Spencer was nervous for what the future was going to hold…in that moment, she was perfectly content. _

_ "Spencer?" Hanna spoke up._

_ "Yeah?"_

_ "I'm not pregnant."_

* * *

><p>At about eight o'clock that night was when Spencer finally got the courage to approach Hanna's front door, but it wasn't until about eight thirty that she got the courage to climb the latticework, throwing two small pebbles as she went. Maybe, just maybe, Hanna would be nostalgic enough to open the window and finally be honest with her over why she had ended it.<p>

Five minutes went by, with Spencer counting every last, painful second under her breath. Maybe Hanna wasn't in her room, or maybe she was listening to music…or maybe she just didn't want to talk to her. There was always that possibility. And with each second that passed, it became the only possibility, and her stomach sank.

Another minute passed, and she couldn't stay there and subject herself to that heartbreak any longer, and she was two steps down the lattice when she heard the unmistakable sliding of the window, and Hanna was peering down at her. "What the hell? You're like…Satan or something, I can't get rid of you."

"…okay, I'm not even sure what you were trying to say there." Spencer said as she hauled herself up onto the windowsill. "I know this is creepy, but just…be honest with me, and I'll leave you alone, okay? We've been through...so much together, and I think I deserve more than just an 'I can't' and a quickie in the back of my car."

A look, something akin to panic, crossed Hanna's expression, but she finally stepped back so Spencer could pull herself inside. "Come on in, I guess…but you've got to promise to stop this, Spencer. This…climbing in my windows and sitting in front of my house in your car, and acting like we're all buddy-buddy in school…it's gotta stop."

"I just want to know why." Spencer asked, as she righted herself, standing up, smoothing her skirt. "That's all any of this has been about. I just want to know why you ended it. And don't give me that crap about how you're not good enough for me, because we've already talked about that, and I know that's not it." Spencer flung her hands out in frustration, finally letting it out. "I have gone through hell being without you and no knowing why, and it isn't fucking fair! It's like you don't even care about me, or how I feel…the way you're acting now, it's like you never cared, and that was all some sick joke!" Spencer hadn't even realized that this was how she felt, as she shouted it at Hanna. Watching herself at this moment was like watching a train go over the tracks…she knew it was only going to end in disaster, but there was nothing she could do about it. "It wasn't a joke for me, Hanna. And I'm not joking about this either. I deserve better."

There was a second were the two girls stared at each other though the anger charged air, before Hanna broke. In a matter of seconds she was sitting on the edge of her bed, her shoulders shaking, face buried in her hands. "It was A!" Hanna sobbed, finally looking up at her, Spencer turning away before she could look at her – seeing her cry would only make her feel worse.

"…A made you break up with me?" Spencer asked, wrapping her arms around herself. "But, I thought…I thought we told each other everything, we could have worked something out, you didn't have to put me through that – "

"Spencer, do you honestly think I wanted to?" Hanna cut her off, forcing Spencer to look at her. "The last thing I ever want to do is hurt you. But there was more at stake this time, and I figured a clean break would be better."

"…who did they threaten to hurt?" Spencer asked, after a long moment of contemplation, looking at Hanna, even though her chest ached at the sight of her crying. "That's the only reason I can think of that would get in the way of you telling me what was going on. A made you break up with me, because otherwise, they would have hurt someone else…it all makes sense, now." Spencer leaned forward, taking her hands. "Babe, you could have told me. We could have figured something out, we didn't…you didn't have to go through this alone." She wrapped her arms around Hanna, pulling her to her chest, only to be pushed away, her mouth falling open.

"Stop." Hanna said. "I don't…I broke up with you, Spencer."

"…but you just said – "

"I know what I said, Spencer, and I still broke up with you." Hanna said. "Because we've tried this whole fooling A thing before, and it didn't exactly work out for us in the long run. And I…I can't risk it. I'm sorry, Spencer. I'm sorry."

Spencer didn't allow herself the time needed for her heart to break – she could do that later. "Who?" She finally asked, her voice sticking in her throat. "Who's in trouble?" In the pit of her stomach…in the back of her mind, she knew exactly who it was. She just needed to hear her say it, half hoping she was wrong, and knowing that it wouldn't be real until she heard it.

"…Caleb." Hanna finally whispered, the sound of the boy's name literally making acid rise in Spencer's throat. "A said that they'd hurt Caleb if I kept dating you, so…I broke up with you." Hanna looked up at her with tears in her eyes, and although she'd feel awful about it later, Spencer could muster up no sympathy for her ex-girlfriend. "I' sorry, I just…I couldn't let him…"

"Screw you, Hanna." Spencer scooped up her purse roughly as she pushed past Hanna to the hallway, ignoring the girl as she tried to pull her back. "You know, I knew you still had feelings for him, but this is just…God, I really am an idiot." She dug her keys out of her bag viciously, almost cutting her hand in the process as she ripped her arm out of Hanna's grip. "I can't believe I actually thought you cared about me."

"But I do!" Hanna gasped. "Spencer, I do care about you, please just listen to me – "

"Like you listened to me?" Spencer whirled around, now standing in front of the door. "When I begged you to tell me what was going wrong with us? If that's what you mean, then I'm doing a fantastic job of listening to you. Goodbye, Hanna." She snapped, slamming her front door, and sprinting to her car.

There's always a moment, Spencer reflected, as she climbed into the seat, staring blankly at the steering wheel. A moment of grace before you lost it. And she waited for the moment to end, and for the pain and the tears to come. But the seconds ticked by, and her eyes stayed dry, and she remained strangely empty.

And, she had to wonder, did that mean her moment of grace was lasting longer? Or did it mean that it hadn't even come?


	5. Burn

Flaming. Blatantly ironic name for a gay bar but Spencer found it oddly fitting as she swallowed shot after shot of alcohol that set her throat on fire. That was what she had come for, really. To either just incinerate herself, and stop all of this madness once and for all, or to at least burn all of Hanna away from her. She had heard that the only way to truly purify something was to light it on fire, if you were desperate enough. And with the way Hanna had gotten under her skin, interweaving with her thoughts and her memory until it was impossible to be without her even when she was without her, Spencer knew she would have to burn her away.

She closed her eyes against her swimming vision, the test she subjected herself to every hour to see if she was any closer to forgetting, any closer to ridding herself of the girl that had worked her way into her veins like poison. A soft curse word fell from her lips as Hanna's face swam before her eyes, the scent of her perfume suddenly surrounding her, enveloping her. But instead of feeling safe, instead of feeling loved, and worth it, she felt trapped, Spencer realized, as she let her head rest against the bar.

She couldn't get rid of her. No matter how much she drank or how hard she cried, Hanna was still there. Either that was a testament to her love, or proof of just how crazy she was.

Or perhaps of just how drunk she was, Spencer mused as she opened her eyes and found herself nearly getting sick over how dizzy she'd made herself. With a groan sounding low in her throat, she pushed herself into a sitting position, taking a deep breath. The bar was packed – it was a Friday night, after all – and the air was charged with sweat and the promise of sex set to the beat of some Gaga-esque dance song that made her bar stool vibrate slightly with its heavy base. This wasn't really her scene – if anything, she belonged in some upscale hotel wine bar, with leather and chrome and soft jazz oozing through the dim room, talking to a sultry stranger who offered her an unfiltered cigarette before casually suggesting an equally casual encounter. Not here, where you could barely hear yourself think, and the drinks were unnatural neon colors, and girls were so packed together and pressed up against each other that you couldn't tell who's ass you were grabbing.

Spencer Hastings didn't belong here. Which was exactly why she was there, sitting at the bar with glitter embedded in the tiles and a bowl half full of dental dams to her left. She was starting to realize that if she couldn't forget Hanna, if she couldn't stop seeing her face, she'd have to replace it with another one. And where better to do that at a place where she didn't belong, and would probably never return to.

"Sex on the beach." Spencer turned slightly at the sound of another voice – so far, she'd been alone at the bar in her endeavor – pausing for a moment before turning fully to look at her, instantly recoiling. Blonde, wavy hair veiled her face, except for her painted red lips, which had just mouthed the name of Hanna's signature drink. It was equal parts horrifying and mortifying, and before Spencer could help herself, she gasped aloud. "You've got to be kidding me."

The girl turned, and it wasn't Hanna. (On some level, Spencer had known this, she realized as she looked at her more fully.) "Excuse me?" She asked, in a voice far more raspy than Hanna's, as she furrowed thin, arched eyebrows over dark eyes that were more like Spencer's eyes than Hanna's blue ones. "Did I do something to offend you?"

"Oh…oh God, no." Spencer shook her head, placing her palms flat on the table to steady herself as she did so, her head spinning. "You just…look like somebody I know. Well, used to know, anyway."

"She the reason why you're here?" The girl asked bluntly, thanking the bartender for her drink as it was handed to her. When Spencer didn't answer her – the answer was fairly obvious, after all – she nodded. "Oh, no worries. I probably would have done the same thing." A beat of silence passed. "I'm Sage."

Spencer had taken another shot at the same time Sage introduced herself, so it took her a second to reciprocate, coughing as she got her name out. "Spencer!" She gasped out, before swallowing hard, composing herself. "My name is Spencer."

"That's hot." Sage said bluntly, looking over at her, almost causing Spencer to choke again. "Your name, I mean. It's hot. I love girls with masculine names."

Spencer laughed – a harsh, rough sound that didn't feel natural, but felt good. She hadn't laughed in days, well, other than derisive, sarcastic laughter, which wasn't really laughter at all. "Was that supposed to be a compliment?" Spencer asked, arching an eyebrow as well. "Because if it was, it's not a very good one, I'm afraid."

"You're the first girl I've ever met named 'Spencer.'" Sage pointed out, leaning in slightly. She was wearing a gauzy white button down, over a black cami and shorts, her bra not so subtly hanging out over the fabric of the camisole. Spencer was looking – she couldn't help it, she was drunk. Past 'making out with Wren' drunk and onto 'staring down strange girls' shirts' drunk, apparently, because Sage slipped her fingers under Spencer's chin and tilted her head up so that she was looking at her face. "Although you're not exactly acting like one…"

"The only guy I ever met named Spencer was at my country club, and he'd fit in here better than I do." Spencer replied, blinking, trying to clear her vision, eyes drifting from Sage's dark eyes to her lips, which suddenly seemed like a good idea.

"That gay, huh?" Spencer almost didn't hear her, her voice echoing somewhere in the back of her mind. The strobe lights were going now, and the bass was lower, but louder, somehow, and faster, and it clashed with her heartbeat which was swishing loudly in her ears. Everything around her was moving or swaying, except for Sage, and her red lips, just there, and waiting for her to…

"That gay." The whispered answer was quick, falling away quickly as Spencer moved forward, pulling Sage down into a kiss.

The kiss was hot. Literally, Spencer felt like she was on fire, but that could have been any number of things. The vodka circulating in her system, the ambient heat in the crowded room, or the way that Sage seemed to know exactly what she liked in a kiss, quick intensity, hand at the back of her neck, fighting for control, but not taking too much away from her. It was almost the perfect kiss, the reasons for it not being so fairly obvious – Sage wasn't the girl she wanted to be kissing. But she was good enough.

Spencer twisted her fingers in Sage's blonde hair as the kiss broke, moving only millimeters away from her, their dark eyes meeting. "Wow." Spencer gasped, smiling a little, running a thumb along Sage's jawline. "As you might put it, that was…that was hot."

Sage laughed a little, a low sound, far from a giggle. "I have to say, Spence…I've gotten around with a few girls and a few guys, but you are…as I think _you'd_ probably say…um, exquisite, I believe is the word?" She smirked "Am I smart enough for you?"

"Oh…shut up." Spencer said, shaking her head before kissing her again.

Spencer wasn't sure if it was the alcohol she'd consumed, or how messed up in the head she was over Hanna, but the next thing she knew, her back was being pressed against a neon green bathroom door, and Sage's hands were places that made Spencer blush. "This is moving a little fast." Spencer gasped, turning her head away from the kiss.

"And that's a problem because?" Sage gasped, pushing Spencer's arm above her hand, sliding her hand up her wrist to clasp their fingers, pushing her leg up between Spencer's, causing her to gasp, and spots to appear in her vision. _Well._ As time went on, Sage was proving herself to be less and less like Hanna. She had never been that forward without some sort of prompting, or at least a special occasion, this was…well, it was different, and Spencer wasn't used to it.

"I'm just…an increased velocity creates more heat." God, what was she even saying? She was so overheated that she wasn't even making sense. "And combined with the friction, I…I mean, that could…we could get burned."

She was silenced as Sage pressed a finger to her lips. "You know, hearing you talk about heat friction and velocity, only makes me want you more." Sage whispered, before removing her finger from her lips and kissing her again.

No, Spencer wasn't used to this. Sex in a bar bathroom with a perfect stranger. It wasn't something she did, and so she wasn't used to it. But with Sage's lips against hers, her hands on her thighs, her nails biting into her skin, and her strength pinning her to the wall, Spencer realized that this wasn't something she minded getting used to.

* * *

><p><em>Spencer drummed her fingers on the table impatiently, watching as Hanna and Mona politely interacted over cappuccino. It. had begun as an innocent enough date at the Grill, hands held under the table, thinly veiled innuendos and long, longing glances. It was as much of a date as they could have in Rosewood, and they'd become accustomed to it, for the most part. It was only times like these, when they invariably ran into someone they knew and had to play it off as a casual thing, and entertain them until they took their leave. Today, it was ten times as annoying for Spencer, because they had run into none other than Mona Vanderwaal five minutes into their date, and she had all but inserted herself into it, staying for the whole two hour dinner and now lingering mercilessly over coffee.<em>

_ Hanna caught Spencer's gaze, and offered her an apologetic look, a small smile just barely turning up the corners of her pale pink lips. It was all Spencer could do to keep from leaning over and kissing her, but the combination of them being in public and Mona being right there, the most she could do was to look right back at her, and judging by the way Hanna bit at her lip, her hands suddenly gripping the table, Spencer was sure she'd gotten her point across._

_ "Hanna, we really need to get going, I've got a massive French test to study for." Spencer said suddenly. This was partially the truth – she did have a French test, but she had no intention of studying. "And I'm your ride home, so..."  
>Before Hanna could agree, however, Mona interjected. "Oh, I can run her home, Spencer, no problem! You go study for your test, we'll hit up the frozen yogurt place or something." She beamed, and Spencer could only manage a small smile and a hiccup of a laugh, trying hard not to just slap the expression right off of Mona's face.<em>

_ "I…" Hanna looked indecisive, glancing between Spencer, her girlfriend, and Mona, her insufferable best friend. Spencer could tell her thought process – it read clearly in her wide blue eyes. Leave with her girlfriend and risk alienating her best friend and exposing her relationship, or stay behind with Mona, save their cover, but end their limited time together prematurely. It was a fairly weighted argument to be sure, but it wasn't one Spencer intended to lose._

_ "I don't really want you going out of your way, Mona." Spencer said, reaching forward under the table, laying a hand on Hanna's knee, instantly sliding it upward, past the hem of her already short skirt, trying the remind her of what waited for her if she ditched Mona now. "It's okay, really, right Hanna?" She asked innocently, glancing up at the blonde._

_ Hanna wasn't looking at Spencer, but her jaw had dropped just slightly, and her cheeks were colored pink, and her eyes were wide, her lower lip trebling as she struggled to keep her cool. "Ah, yeah, Mona, it's fine. I…I gotta go too, I don't feel well…all of a sudden." Spencer caught Mona's dejected expression out of the corner of her eye, but didn't much care as Hanna stood up rapidly, pushing her hand out from under her skirt, grabbing her purse. "I'll talk to you later, Mona, I promise!" The blonde said quickly, her voice a bit higher than normal, as she grabbed Spencer's wrist and dragged her out of the restaurant._

_ "Wow." Spencer gasped, as Hanna practically shoved her into the back of the car, climbing over her. "I guess I'll have to be that persuasive more often…"_

_ "For the love of God, shut up." Hanna said, pushing her down and kissing her., robbing Spencer of all coherent thought. They were on a main street, in a car, making out, and in that moment, she couldn't care less. She pulled Hanna as close as she could, tugging at her blonde hair, biting at her lower lip, and…groaning in frustration as the kiss suddenly ended._

_ "Mona's headed this way." Hanna gasped, her breathing heavy as she crouched low against Spencer, trembling atop of her. Except for their heavy breathing, the car was silent, and when no footsteps had passed by after five long, agonizing minutes with Hanna pressed against her, Spencer cautiously sat up, Hanna against her chest._

_ "She must have gone the other way." Spencer said, after a moment, looking up at Hanna who was perched in her lap, hair mussed, lip gloss smudged, eyes glassy, and she couldn't help but laugh. "God, you're a mess."_

_ "And whose fault is that?" Hanna replied, arching an eyebrow. "You're the one who couldn't keep her hands to herself."_

_ "Only because Mona couldn't keep her mouth shut." Spencer replied, sighing, her breath finally caught. "We can't keep doing this. It's torture."_

_ "Torture." Hanna repeated in agreement. "No matter where we go, someone we know is always there. It's like a Hitchcock movie or something."_

_ Spencer laughed, pressing her forehead against Hanna's. "You're learning." She said, sighing. "…so we'll just have to leave Rosewood for a night. No big deal. I know Philly like the back of my hand."_

_ "Oh no." Hanna sat up further, trying in vain to fix her hair. "You're not planning this date. We'll end up at this stuffy restaurant, where jazz is playing. That's not a date, it's a business dinner. I am much better at planning dates than you."_

_ Spencer looked at her for a moment. "Was there a challenge in there?" She asked, sitting forward, pushing Hanna slightly back towards the window. "Because I'm more than willing to accept."_

_ A smile played at the corners of Hanna's mouth, her eyes suddenly lighting up. "…alright." She finally said."You plan a date, and I'll plan a date. If your date ends up being stuffy and boring, we'll go out on mine. Deal?"_

_ "Deal." Spencer confirmed. "…but I'm afraid our present date isn't over." She added, leaning forward and kissing her again, pressing her to the window. "I'll show you stuffy and boring…"_

* * *

><p>2:12 am was the time on the neon green kitchen clock as Spencer stepped inside, lighting up the room with an eerie green glow that reminded her of the room she'd been in only an hour before. This wasn't the first time she'd gotten in this late, but it was the first time she'd been drunk, smelling of cigarettes and sex and whatever scent Sage had been wearing, disheveled from bathroom sex, and clearly broken, perhaps beyond repair. The drive home had only sufficed for her to reflect on what a wreck she'd become, doing things she never would have done before any of this had happened – hooking up with a random stranger, and then driving home smashed afterward. Her tears were tinted with the leftovers of her dark makeup, and she was glad no one was around to see her like this as she slowly made her way up the stairs to sit in the shower until she felt remotely clean again.<p>

She sat beneath the hot water until she was sure it had scalded her skin nearly beyond repair before she climbed out of the tub, her head already aching with the promise of a wicked hangover, wrapping herself in the fluffiest towel she could find, not bothering to dry or straighten her hair as she very quietly tiptoed to her room. "Merde." She hissed under her breath in French as she stumbled over her father's shoe in the hallway, hitting her door frame with a loud smack as she fumbled with the doorknob, finally letting herself into her room.

And promptly shrieking as she discovered she wasn't the only one awake.

Veronica Hastings was sitting on Spencer's chaise lounge, still in her work clothes and looking at Spencer like she was some punk ass kid who'd been caught on tape robbing a convenience store with a water gun. "Spencer Jill, where have you been? Do you have any idea what time it is?"

Spencer had her hand to her chest, having nearly dropped her towel out of shock. "Mom, what the hell?" She gasped, moving over to her bed, sitting down. "You scared me." She was still fairly drunk, but after the hot shower and three cups of black coffee at the bar, she felt like she was doing an okay job of masking it.

"I scared you?" Veronica snapped. "How do you think I felt? It's three in the morning, Spencer. Where were you?"

"Out." Spencer replied wryly, raising an eyebrow, shocked by this display of caring, sure it was for nothing more than show, to ease Veronica's surely guilty conscience for her actions towards her daughter. "I was out. But you knew that, so I don't see why you were so worried."

"You can't talk to me like that, Spencer." Veronica snapped again, clearly furious with her. "I have every right to know where you were so late, I am your mother – "

"Oh, are you?" Spencer interrupted, not in the mood to hear this tonight, of all nights. "Really? If you didn't go around blustering about how you're my parent, I wouldn't have any idea. You're never here, and when you are, all of your time is taken up by Melissa and that stupid baby of hers. Don't pretend like you care where I was, other than to make sure I wasn't out embarrassing you and demonstrating your lack of parenting skills, because I know you don't. You've made the perfectly clear."

Veronica stared at Spencer for a moment, actually seeming lost for words, and perhaps a little hurt, but this only gave Spencer a sick sense of satisfaction, of triumph. She had finally, after seventeen years, shocked her mother into speechlessness. Although she would probably regret it in the years to come, Spencer hadn't felt that good in days.

"Spencer…" Veronica started, regaining her voice, but speaking haltingly, as if her thought wasn't fully formed and she was just desperate to get her words out before she lost control of the situation. "I care about you – "

"Do you?" Spencer was raising her voice at this point, and she didn't even care who heard, or what her mother thought. "I don't think so. If you did, you'd know where I was tonight, and every other night this week, you'd know why I've been so different lately, you'd know who I've been with, and you'd know that I wasn't really sick this week, I was _heartbroken._ So, you really think you care about me? God, I'd really love to know how you logically justify that conclusion."

Again, the blank stare, and the silence as Veronica rose, a searching expression on her features as she stepped over to her daughter. "Spencer, I…I feel like I don't know you anymore."

"…if you did, you wouldn't like me." Spencer whispered, looking away. "Please go away, I need to sleep, I don't feel well." Her voice was just as soft, but biting – she couldn't stand to be near her anymore. Not after her shameful night, not after nearly revealing her secret, and certainly not after her delusional reference to caring.

"Spencer – "

"Go." She repeated, lying back on her bed, rolling away from her, closing her eyes as she heard the footsteps grow quieter, and the door finally shut. She couldn't help but lay there and laugh at the irony.

She'd been praying for someone to notice that something was wrong, and the instant someone did, she denied it, and denied it, and denied it, using every technique she could think of.

God, she was so messed up.

* * *

><p><em>Spencer smoothed her short, but still modest royal blue dress, pulling down the mirror to reapply her lipgloss. As promised, they had set their date for the week following, not giving Spencer much time to whip something up. But a couple of called in favors and two hours spent on the phone later, she had crafted what she believed to be at least a passable date at one of Philly' nicest restaurants. She was alone for the moment – she and Hanna had decided to drive separately, to avoid attracting attention, and now the wait was killing her. No one she had ever dated had brought out her competitive side like this, and it was…thrilling, to say the least.<em>

_ She jumped slightly as there was a knock on her window – A had them all on pins and needles just waiting, but not in a good way. But a glance over at Hanna, who was dressed formally, as requested, reassured her that she wasn't in immediate danger…or at least not the kind of danger that would harm her. "Can I help you?" She asked, as she rolled down the window._

_ "I think I'm lost." Hanna replied, smirking as she leaned in the window. She was in purple, Spencer's favorite color to see her in, with a shawl draped over her pale shoulders, a clutch held carefully in her hands. "Could you remind me of where I am?" She asked._

_ "I most certainly can." Spencer reached up, pulling her down into a quick, light kiss. "Does that jog your memory?"_

_ "It most certainly does." Hanna said, smiling a little, her expression…different. Odd, but not in a bad way. Spencer cautiously got out of the car, looking at her. "Are you okay?" She asked._

_ Hanna shook her head suddenly, looking over at her – they were eye level, due to the height of the blonde's heels. "Yeah! Yeah, I'm fine." She said, her left hand gripping her right upper arm. "So, what are we doing?"_

_ "We're going right here." Spence gestured at the restaurant she was fortunate enough to get a parking spot right next to. "I know you'll love it. And it's not stuffy and boring, and I think they only play jazz once an hour. And the best part is that there won't be anyone here who knows us."_

_ "Mmm, I don't think that will be the _best_ part." Hanna said softly, lightly trailing two fingers across the neckline of Spencer's dress, giving her a wink before turning. "Swanky." She commented, before reaching behind her, pulling a slightly dumbstruck Spencer forward and into the restaurant, where she found her voice._

_ "Two for Hastings?" She said. She had purposely picked a restaurant her parents didn't like, and would never frequent, so they would never hear about how their youngest daughter had brought a girl to dinner. "We're on time, the reservation was for eight."_

_ "Yes, of course." The host said, slightly bitingly, causing Spencer to furrow her eyebrows, looking over at Hanna who shrugged just slightly, clearly brushing it off. "Right this way." He said in the same, brisk tone, walking them over to a table right smack dab in the center of the room. Not what she would have preferred, but it was still something._

_ As Hanna sat, she gazed at Spencer with that odd look again. The brunette paused as she unfolded her napkin to place in her lap. "…what" She asked, beginning to smile, confused. "Why are you looking at me like that?"_

_ "I'm just…really happy to be here with you, Spencer." Hanna said, deeply sincere as she reached over, taking Spencer's hand, pressing her thumb against her palm, tracing a small heart against her skin, making Spencer blush before she pulled away. "I'm really glad I can just do this…" She paused, leaning over the small table and kissing Spencer, briefly, quickly, making Spencer's heart race as she pulled away. "…and not worry about who might see." She sat back, looking down at her hands. "Actually, Spencer, I guess what I'm trying to say is – "_

_ Before Hanna could get it out, the host approached them again, a sour expression on his features. "I'm afraid we've given this table away." He said brusquely, tapping Hanna's shoulder, causing her to wince. "I'm sorry, but you're going to have to leave." He added, in a manner that suggested that he wasn't sorry about it in the slightest._

_ "This is absurd!" Spencer interjected, trying not to get angry or irrational, even though the situation somewhat warranted it. "We had a reservation, and we already sat down, how could there be a problem?"_

_ At the man's next words, Spencer felt the color drain from her face, her stomach twist up in knots, and, as she would reflect later on, she had hardly felt worse about herself in her life – and that was truly saying something. "We only reserve tables for those that fit the values and image of our establishment, and you and your…friend here do not. You need to leave."_

_ Spencer stared up at him. never once in her life had she ever prepared for this moment, not even when she'd begun seeing Hanna, when she knew it would invariably happen one day, that she'd have to deal with a person's – or a whole business's – hate. But it had seemed so far off for her that she had never considered what she'd say in this situation. Or what she would do. So no words came out from her._

_ It was Hanna who spoke, standing, giving the host her iciest glare. "We were just leaving. The service leaves…something to be desired. Come on, Spence, we don't need this." She grabbed the dumbstruck Spencer's wrist, pulling her out of her chair, and out of the restaurant entirely._

* * *

><p>Spencer couldn't force herself out of bed until five minutes before she was supposed to be at school, and even then, she was practically crawling through her routine. Her entire body hurt, nothing more so than her head, feeling as though it was on fire, and not in the good way. Not anything like the night before, which she was beginning to grow more and more ashamed of as time went on. How could she have done that? Hooked up with stranger who meant nothing more than a distraction, a whim to her? How was she even capable of something so careless…so reckless?<p>

Spencer didn't dare glance in the mirror as she prepared herself as fast as she possibly could. She couldn't even bear to think of what she'd done, let alone stare at herself and see it etched out across her tired face. Every transgression she'd committed, against Hanna, against her family, against herself…she couldn't look. not yet. She would have to someday, she knew this…but not now, not this morning.

Spencer could only laugh as she passed a note left by her mother for her on the counter. It was a quick, messy thing detailing a work related, weekend sojourn to New York, and Spencer would be able to take care of herself, wouldn't she? Spencer lit it on fire with an errant match, watching it burn in the sink, knowing it was a thinly veiled excuse to avoid her after she'd laid it all out, blown the lid off, finally,after years, speaking her mind.

"Do I smell smoke?" Spencer jumped, turning around to face Melissa, who was carefully cradling Taylor against her chest in a shoulder sling. The baby had turned out to be a girl, and except for the freckles that we're already beginning to show up on her pale skin, she was every inch a Hastings, rather than a Thomas, down to the signature dark eyes. Truthfully, Spencer had tried to hate Taylor. She really had. And she'd succeeded, for about a half a second, until she was placed in her arms and Spencer realized she loved the idea of having a niece – even if she was half Ian's.

"I…burned some toast." Spencer lied, turning back and gazing at the calendar, swearing softly in French. It was Saturday. She didn't have to be at school t all. She didn't even have to be out of bed right then, struggling to merely turn her head without wincing. The idea of going back to bed and sleeping the day away, sleeping away her problems and her pain for a few hours at least, was wonderful, but before she could announce her intentions out loud, Melissa interrupted her.

"Well, sit, sit, I'll make you something else." Melissa said as she leaned down carefully to check the contents of the fridge, using her hand to support Taylor. "We need to talk." She added, tossing a pointed glance in Spencer's direction as she froze at the words.

Melissa knew. She knew about her and Hanna. She'd completely forgotten.

Spencer folded her arms over her chest, feeling like she might be sick, and not just from the hangover either. "About what?" Spencer asked vaguely, innocently, wincing as Melissa shot her another sharp look. "Right, well…there's nothing to talk about there, I mean…we're over, and I have no desire to – "

"Not that." Melissa waved her off, reaching over to start the coffee machine, causing Spencer to take pause. Wait…what? What else was there to talk about. "Well, not quite that, anyway." Melissa amended. "Somewhat related, but…Spencer, are you gay?"

Spencer dropped the coffee cup she'd just removed from the dish drainer, hearing it shatter in the sink next to the ashes of her mother's note. "Excuse me?" She glanced over her shoulder at her sister, her heart literally pounding in her throat as Melissa calmly looked back at her.

"Well, it's not entirely unwarranted." Melissa said. "I mean, I witnessed you making out with your 'best friend' about seventeen times during these two months, and that is just what I was there to see." Melissa paused to unfasten the carrier, lifting Taylor into her arms. "I just want to know, Spencer. I don't care either way, and I'm not going to tell our parents."

"…I don't know." Spencer whispered, answering her truthfully as she looked away from her, pressing her palms, her fingertips against the cool linoleum, trying to ground herself. It was a question she'd avoided over the course of the past two months, mostly because every time she came even remotely close to thinking about the subject, she got so overwhelmed that she had the sudden urge to go wrap her car around a tree. It wasn't that she didn't want to be – well, maybe she didn't – it was just that she was convinced that she wasn't, that Hanna was an exception to the rule, a fluke, a hiccup. Even if she had ultimately fallen for her, it didn't erase the past, or how she'd felt about boys. She was certain she wasn't. There had been no doubt.

Well, not until she considered the night before. After what had happened with Sage…she was nowhere near as sure of herself anymore, and it scared the hell out of her. Was Sage just a fluke too, like she'd been so convinced Hanna was? Had it just been the combination of her drunkenness and Sage's resemblance to Hanna, her vulnerability taking the lead and making her do something she wouldn't normally do? Or was it something more?

Either way, she wasn't going to pin it down. Not now. Not today. Not when it was Melissa asking, and it wasn't on her own terms. Not when she wasn't ready. "I don't know." Spencer repeated, turning to face Melissa, but not looking at her, dark eyes focused on her hands.

"Look…" Melissa trailed off into a sigh as Taylor began to audibly fuss, stepping over to Spencer. "You're the only one that can always calm her down….she reminds me a lot of you, at that age, actually, believe it or not." Melissa spoke again, a bit softer, causing Spencer to look up, holding out her arms as Melissa carefully shifted the baby into them. There was something about holding Taylor that always made Spencer feel a little bit better for a little while – as it apparently did so for the baby herself, as well. The baby, that little, living thing, made all of her problems, her feelings, her struggles, her pain, that much smaller and insignificant, even for just that little moment in time.

"Really?" Spencer asked, carefully cupping the back of Taylor's head, as she looked up at Melissa, who nodded in emphasis.

"Yeah. I remember Mom and Dad always asked if I wanted to hold you, and I always said no, because you were cuter than me." Spencer had to stifle a laugh. "No, seriously!" Melissa added, clearly repressing a laugh of her own. "You just sat there and looked at everyone with those big brown eyes of yours, and they were hooked. You were such a charmer. I was jealous." Melissa sighed, growing quiet for a second. "Spencer, I…whatever this is, whatever combination of things going on in your life right now that are eating you up inside, you need to work it out, in whatever way you can. You can't just keep sitting on these things and pushing them down and ignoring them until they explode. Like they did last night. With mom?"

"You – "

"I was in the kitchen feeding Taylor, and the walls in this house are far too thin." Melissa replied. "As true as everything you said might be…I wish you weren't like that. I'm the same way – holding everything in – and I hate it. I don't want that kind of life for Taylor, and, God, I don't want it for you. And I know it's hard, but you need to deal with it. Or else it will build up inside you and take you over like poison. I've seen it happen with mom, and dad, and even me, and I just…get rid of it somehow, Spencer, before it's too late."

Spencer nodded after a moment, brushing her fingers against Taylor's cheek. Melissa was right. She knew that. She'd come to that conclusion herself before. All of the evidence pointed to it. But as right as Melissa was, Spencer also knew she was wrong – it was already too late for her. "Okay." She whispered, meeting her sister's gaze., holding it for a second before looking away, unsure if Melissa believed her.

If Melissa could tell her defeatist mentality about the subject, she didn't show it. "Hey, I have to run to the store. Can you sit with Taylor?"

The idea of watching a baby, even one as calm as Taylor, while that hungover, made Spencer feel sick all over again. "I – "

"Sweetie, I know you were out drinking last night, consider this your punishment." Melissa said sweetly, patting her shoulder. "You don't have a choice."

Spencer slumped against the counter, watching as Melissa grabbed her purse and left, looking down at her niece. She used to think, out of the two of them, she had changed the most. It was moments like these that made her reconsider.

* * *

><p><em>There was a good twenty minute silence as they walked down the street, away from the restaurant, and Spencer's feet were already beginning to ache in the shoes she'd picked out special for that night. Everything about that night was supposed to be special, and now….now Spencer couldn't wait for it to be over. "You can say it, you know." She finally broke the silence, not looking at her. "You can say 'I told you so.'"<em>

_ There was another brief moment of silence before Hanna looked over at her. "Why would I say that? It wasn't like it was your fault that it happened. That guy was just a douche."_

_ "Yeah, well, if I hadn't picked that stupid restaurant, we wouldn't have had to deal with that." Spencer said, sniffing, not realizing she was that close to crying until that moment. "I'm sorry. You shouldn't have had to…I just can't believe he said that to us." She stopped, in both speech and in movement, covering her face, trying not to cry, trying to hold it together, trying to remain strong, as she should have done in the restaurant. That was what she was most disgusted by, really…the fact that she was so shocked and hurt and broken down by what the man had said that she hadn't been able to stand up for herself or for her girlfriend like she knew she could have, and knew she should have._

_ "Hey." Spencer felt Hanna's gentle hand on her wrist, prying her hands away from her face, guiding her over to sit on the edge of a nearby loading dock. "This wasn't your fault." The smaller girl insisted, taking her hands, tracing small shapes on her palms to calm her down. "Don't beat yourself up, baby. You couldn't have known." She reassured her, looking up at Spencer with her big, baby blue eyes, instantly calming her down._

_ "Why are you not more upset about this?" Spencer asked after a moment, taking a deep, shuddering breath. "I mean, we were just…marginalized and…and discriminated against." She paused, carefully wiping at her eyes, trying not to wreck her carefully applied make-up. "I can't even think of a strong enough word, like…why aren't you a mess like me?"_

_ "Well," Hanna said, reaching out and using her thumb to wipe away a smudge of eyeliner on Spencer's cheek. "I know that that guy must have a really small dick, and the idea of two chicks together just makes him feel even more inferior." Spencer had to stifle a laugh. "And he was so pissed off at the idea of two very, _very_, hot girls making out with each other instead of him that he had to make us leave." Hanna sighed, making Spencer look at her, suddenly, infinitely more serious. "Spencer, I know there's nothing wrong with us being together…with us liking being together. No matter what it is, someone's going to have a problem with it. You can't make everyone happy, Spencer." Hanna leaned in, kissing her lightly. "…so you might as well start with yourself."_

_ Spencer smiled, twisting her fingers with Hanna's, blushing as Hanna lifted her hand to her lips, kissing her fingertips. "When did you get so smart?" She asked, sighing, feeling more content than she thought she could have after that sort of experience._

_ "I guess you're rubbing off on me." Hanna said, her soft smile slowly transforming into a smirk. "And, speaking of rubbing off, I know a place we can go where I can stick my tongue down your throat and no one would think twice about it…"_

* * *

><p>The weekend simultaneously dragged and flew by. Two full days of immersing herself in childcare and two full nights of sleeplessness were too much for Spencer, and, as upset as she was, she was itching to get back to school. Of course, though, that meant seeing Hanna again, unless, of course, she'd had the tact – or the shame – to transfer to the private school clear on the other side of town. But that wasn't likely enough of an occurrence for Spencer to count on, so when Monday rolled around, she woke up with a stomach full of twists and knots.<p>

It used to be she couldn't wait to see her, Spencer reflected, as she glanced in the mirror when she washed, and again in the rearview mirror when she pulled out of her driveway. She had only ever been filled with anticipation in the moments leading up to her arrival at school, where she would see Hanna, talk to her, stare not so subtly at her lips as she fluffed her hair in her locker mirror, skip lunch for a brief encounter in the supply closet of the art room. She had never, not even when they were fighting or frustrated, not wanted to see Hanna. And now…well, it was just the opposite. That, more than anything, spoke to Spencer of how broken they were…of how broken she was.

Spencer waited in her car until the bell rang, leaving no time to accidentally run into her or get ambushed, or even feel obligated to spend time with her friends. Emily would try her best to subtly grill her and fail at it, and Aria would just be standing there clueless, and she couldn't handle any of that. So she walked into English two minutes after the bell, and avoided all of the eyes on her as she took her seat. Hanna's desperate gaze, which was so strong that it pulled at her like a strong, Emily, Aria, even Fitz, who Aria had inevitably told of her troubles, or what she knew of them, at least. Wonderful.

The hour dragged on, what with Spencer feeling like she was burning up in the spotlight and Ezra getting way too into a pretentious side topic in the discussion of a novel she hadn't had the time to read. Worst of all, she could feel Hanna just waiting, staring at the clock and waiting for the class to end so she could pop up, and start apologizing and explaining herself like she deserved the chance to. It was all bullshit, in the end, only said to make Hanna feel better about herself, about the choice she made.

Because, in the end, that was ultimately what happened. Hanna had made a choice, and she hadn't chosen her. That was that.

The fact that Hanna's anxiety was so palpable that she could actually feel it only served to have her full on hurt, and angry, and just plain annoyed by the time the second bell rang. As far as she was concerned, Hanna deserved every bit of the guilt she felt over this, and the idea that she thought she had a shot at resolving it made her more angry than the break-up itself. In retrospect, her anger only made the situation worse, and even then, at that moment, she could see the blow-up coming, as fast, resolute and unstoppable as a freight train rushing towards her. There was no stopping or preventing it – so why fight it? It wasn't worth the energy.

"Spencer!" She cringed at the sound of her own name, not even pausing to look as she crossed the threshold of the classroom and into the crowded hallway, praying to be spared from her for at least one more class. "Spencer!" But Hanna's small hand still fell on her shoulder, even as she fought her way through a circle of freshmen – clearly, the universe wasn't on her side this morning either.

"What could you possibly want?" Spencer snapped as she finally turned to face Hanna, watching with some satisfaction as the blonde girl shrunk slightly. "Haven't you done enough?"

"Spencer, I…just listen!" Hanna said, subdued, but not destroyed, not yet. "Please, I need to talk to you, I need to explain myself."

"There's nothing to explain." Spencer shook her head, pushing past her, shrieking slightly when she was suddenly shoved into a nearby classroom, looking up as the door shut and the lock clicked. "What the hell, Hanna? I have French class, you can't just – "

"I can and I will!" Hanna said, moving over to her, stepping back slightly as Spencer glared down at her. "You left before I could even begin to explain what happened. I – "  
>Spencer couldn't take it. She couldn't take another second of Hanna's self-righteous, selfish bullshit. "I know what happened!" She snapped – yelled, really, but it was harsh nonetheless. "You didn't choose me!"<p>

Hanna's expression was completely fallen, her lips parted in shock as she was yelled at, just staring. "Spencer…" Her voice was softer, chastised. "I didn't…this wasn't…" It was then that Spencer realized she had her – Hanna was literally, for once, lost for words.

"I'm not your first choice, Hanna." Spencer began, every word of her tirade laced with venom, with the hurt and the agony she'd felt every minute of the past week, desperate to make her feel just a fraction of that emotion, so she wouldn't have to bear it all herself, and because Hanna deserved to know how she'd made her feel. Maybe some of it wasn't entirely true, and maybe she didn't mean it, but she couldn't stop. "I get it. You don't want me as much as you want him! I don't want to sit here and listen to you try to justify it. You know, if you had just been honest with me in the beginning and told me all I was good for was a good lay while you were waiting for your boy toy to get over himself and whatever California bleached blonde bimbo he was amusing himself with, I would have understood. But, no, instead you pretended like you cared about me, comforted me, made me feel like I was actually worth something for once. I guess I should have known that one was a lie."

"Spencer – " Hanna tried to interrupt, her voice and her eyes swimming with tears, but Spencer was having none of it. Not now, not today.

"I thought we were different! You made me feel like we were different! How dare you take it all away!" She didn't care who heard. The whole world could have heard, and she wouldn't have cared. Hanna had hurt her, and hurt her bad, and she was done suffering in silence. "No, actually, how dare you make me feel like that, when you clearly didn't mean any of it in the first place?" The fact that she'd hooked up with another girl was on the tip of her tongue, but somehow, it didn't come out. "It isn't the fact that you didn't choose me that I can't get over, Hanna. No one ever picks me, and even when they do, it gets so fucked up that it doesn't work out in the end anyway. That's not what I care about. What really makes me angry, Hanna, what really makes me _hate_ you, is that you gave me hope, and then you ripped it away. And that is what is unforgivable here."

Spencer didn't spare a moment to listen to the broken sounds Hanna was desperately trying to form into words, or to glance at her crumpling expression, or deal with her tears. She didn't look at Emily and Aria – who had been waiting by the door and had clearly heard every word – as she brushed past the on her way to French. For a minute, she felt triumphant, better than she had in days, but that faded into a chilling sense of bittersweet victory that crawled through her veins and settled in her bones, almost making her shiver as she sat down at her desk.

For a brief, fleeting moment, she wished she was burning again.

* * *

><p><em>"What?" Spencer called, barely able to hear over the incessant dance music blasting through the air. "I can't hear you!" The bass hit her hard in the chest, clashing with her heartbeat, and she was sure she'd have an arrhythmia by the end of the night if this continued. There were strobe lights, and neon colors, and the air was heavy with heat a moisture, and there were girls <em>everywhere. _Literally everywhere, mostly packed together on some plexiglass dance floor, making it look more like a modern day incarnation of Sodom and Gomhorra than anything._

_ "Come on!" Hanna pushed her into an empty, brightly colored, U-shaped booth that made it a little easier to hear her. "Isn't this great?"_

_ "Great?" Spencer asked, already feeling her ears go numb from the loudness of the music. "It's a little loud…and crowded…and loud!" She sighed as Hanna slid closer, half in her lap, so she could hear her. "Why did you bring me here? This is so – "_

_ "Not your scene?" Hanna asked, finishing her sentence. "That's exactly why I brought you here, silly. I want to see what kind of mischief you get into when you have a few drinks and get jealous when hot girls hit on me."_

_ "How do you know they won't hit on me?" Spencer asked the only thing that came to her mind, completely thrown and floored by this place. It was unlike anywhere she had ever been before, and that fact alone scared her. _

_ Hanna leaned in, brushing her lips against her ear. "I get scary when I'm jealous." Hanna whispered, tracing along Spencer's shoulder lightly. "They won't want to." Pressing a kiss to her temple, she pulled away. "I'm going to go get us a drink. Stay here, and don't let any pretty girls take my place…"_

_ Spencer closed her eyes for a moment, shivering slightly at the remembrance of her touch, opening them once she'd recovered. Okay. This didn't have to be so bad. As long as Hanna didn't make her dance, she would be fine. This was actually sort of fun, being in an environment where they didn't have to pretend, didn't have to hide. She could only describe the feeling as liberating._

_ Suddenly, she felt the familiar prickle on the back of her neck that told her she was being watched, and she searched around wildly, her heart beginning to make its way up into her throat. Was it A? Were they there, could they see? OH God, if A knew…her stomach lurched at the thought, and she moved to climb out of the booth, but stopped as she realized it wasn't A who was looking at her at all. She caught her dark eyes from across the bar, and if it hadn't been for that, she would have thought it was Hanna. But she was too tall, and the eyes were wrong, and her lips were red instead of pink. Her gaze was predatory – if anything, Spencer realized, it was like looking into a mirror. And she couldn't look away, not right away, at least._

_ "Spencer?" The brunette jump, tearing her gaze away from the blonde across the room and turning it to the blonde who was leaning over her, pushing a bright red and orange drink into her hands, something she looked at with skepticism._

_ "The hell is this?" She asked, looking away from it as Hanna slid into her lap, holding the same drink._

_ "Sex on the beach." Hanna said. "It's awesome, and I wasn't sure what you liked, and I'm pretty sure they wouldn't have it here anyway." She took a long pull from her drink, and kissed Spencer full on, brushing her hands down her body to rest on her chest. "No one will be kicking us out of here for this…" She whispered, before deepening the kiss._

_ Before Spencer's eyes fluttered shut, she caught the girl looking at them again. Distracted by the kiss, she thought nothing of it, but as it broke, and Hanna's mouth was preoccupied with her neck, she held her gaze again. The other girl arched an eyebrow, her expression arrogant, as if to say 'I'm so much better than her, come give me a try.'_

_ Two could play that game. Spencer thought to herself, shooting the girl across the room a look as she shifted Hanna off her lap, leaning in, kissing her, tugging at her lower lip with her teeth before whispering against her ear as she slipped her hand slowly up under the fabric of Hanna's skirt. "I know something that they might kick us out for…"_

_ "Well, what…what are we waiting for?" Hanna gasped, her eyes closing for a second before Spencer practically pushed her out of the booth, kissing her as she forced her through the crowd towards the bathrooms, sparing only a second to glance at the girl, who suddenly seemed less than interested._

_ Flaming. Spencer caught the name printed on the wall as she pressed Hanna against the lime green wall, pushing her skirt up around her hips, pinning her back as she kissed her. Blatantly ironic name for a gay bar, but she supposed it was fitting.  
><em>

* * *

><p><em>AN:_ Hey guys! I just wanted to thank you all for all the positive things I've heard about this story! It really means a lot to me, since I put so much time and effort into writing this_ , _and I really appreciate everything you've all said. It's great motivation to keep writing. I know a lot of you probably hate me right now, but the only thing I can tell you is to have faith! It always gets worse before it gets better. And nothing is an accident, so watch all those little details. Until next time, darlings! xx


	6. Tailspin

"Oh, Spencer, please, forgive me for ripping your heart out." It wasn't much of an imitation, but it was high pitched and irritating and it made Spencer feel a tiny bit better as she violently ripped the sheets off of her bed, in the process of remaking it with the starched ones that Melissa had given her. "I was just trying to protect my skeevy ex-boyfriend from our faceless stalker, why would I _ever_ consider your feelings, I mean, we were just dating." She jerked the white quilt halfway up before she decided she was doe and dropped down onto the bed. "Well, then, fuck you, Hanna." She added, in her normal voice, closing her eyes as she turned against a pillow that – finally – didn't faintly smell of her perfume.

"I can't believe you'd say that to me Spencer!" She lapsed back into the imitation, arm thrown over her eyes dramatically. "I didn't do anything wrong! I'm the victim here! You can't hate me!" She let her arm fall to the side, looking up at her ceiling. "Oh, but I can, and I will." She added, pausing for a second to think of what to say in Hanna's voice next, before she realized how completely and utterly crazy she sounded at that very moment.

"I'm losing my fucking mind." Spencer groaned, pulling the pillow to her face, rolling over onto her stomach, sighing heavily as she fought back laughter, actually amused by how far gone she was. It was laughable, honestly, how much she'd allowed herself to slip down the cliff face of mental stability – not that she'd been that far up there to begin with. If her parents cared an ounce more about her than they actually did, she'd probably be on some kind of psychotropic medication, and spend her days shaking, and staring blankly at walls for extended periods of time.

The awful part was that she didn't know which would be worse.

There was a knock at the door, and Spencer rolled over, letting her eyes fall open. "No, Melissa, I still don't want dinner." She sighed, covering her face, looking over as the door opened anyway. "Melissa, I said – "

"It's not Melissa, you idiot." And it wasn't. It was Aria, wearing her Betsey Johnson-esque lace contraption vintage find of the day, brushing back her dark hair, which wasn't adorned with anything today, instead pulled into a high ponytail, looking every bit as put together as Spencer wasn't. "And…I think there are a few things we need to talk about, Spence…"

Oh God. Anything but that. Anyone but _Aria._ Her best friend. The person she'd been lying to the most over the past few months, more than her family, even. She was supposed to tell Aria everything that was going on in her life, and instead, she'd told her nothing, pretending like her life was all smooth sailing and late night committee meetings and homework too demanding for sleepovers. She'd been neglecting her in favor of her secret relationship, and now she had to own up to it and the thought of that alone was almost as awful as the past week had been. "I…" Spencer couldn't look at her, letting her head fall to the opposite side of the room. "…I figured. There was no way you couldn't have heard that."

"Yeah, well…" Spencer felt the bed dip as Aria sat down beside her. "You and Hanna were always the loudest out of all of us. You two can yell…well, in this case, you could yell, but…" There was a paused. "Spencer, why didn't you…say anything? I mean, I would never…you know I love you no matter what, right?"

Spencer laughed, rolling over to look at her. "Of course I do." She said. "You're not the problem in the equation, Aria."

"…don't use math puns on me." The other brunette laughed a little, reaching for Spencer's hand, taking it, lacing their fingers. "I just don't understand why you wouldn't tell me." There wasn't any hurt in her voice, Spencer noticed, just genuine confusion…curiosity. She breathed a sigh of relief.

"I was scared." She replied, more honest than she'd been with anyone in a long time. "Not that you wouldn't like me or anything, I mean, of course you would, you love everyone…but something like that? Like me and Hanna? That going public is…a lot more complicated than you'd think."

"But Emily did it." Aria pressed gently.

"That's different."

"How is it different?"

'It's just different, okay, Aria?" Spencer snapped, instantly feeling guilty as Aria fell silent. "…I'm sorry." She said, after a long moment. "This is just…this is really new territory for me, and…you know how I get when I don't know what to do."

Aria squeezed her hand back. "It's okay, Spence." She said, genuine. "I know what it's like to keep something like this hidden. I get it." In that moment, Spencer wished she could go back, and redo everything, trusting her from the beginning…maybe this whole scene could have been avoided. Maybe Aria would have talked some sense into her, or into Hanna, or maybe just would have stopped it all from happening in the first place. Then she wouldn't be in this dark, terrible place, acting out of spite, saying things she didn't mean, or at least didn't mean to say out loud. By shutting out Aria, by shutting out her best friend, she had gone down a path she had never expected of herself. While self-exploration wasn't the worst thing in the world, she had found something in herself she didn't particularly like. Simply by not trusting her best friend to keep her secret.

"I'm sorry." She said again, but this time, apologizing for a great many more things. "Aria, I – "

"I don't think I'm the one you should be apologizing to right now, Spence." Aria interrupted quietly, as Spencer looked over at her. "Em's over at Hanna's right now or else she'd be here yelling at you. You broke her, Spencer, and Emily's just trying to hold her together…that wasn't fair.

Spencer knew. She had known that the instant she'd opened her mouth to Hanna in that classroom. It had always been a part of herself that she'd hated – when she lost control, on the few occasions that she did, anyways, the results were always disastrous and hurtful and, despite her intensity, hurting people who didn't deserve it made her feel terrible. And, as much as she hated to admit it, Hanna hadn't entirely deserved what she'd said.

But another thing she hated doing was admitting that she was wrong. "Aria, if you knew – "

"I do." Aria said, the same quiet interruption as before. "Hanna told us everything, how A blackmailed her into breaking up with you so Caleb would be safe. It wasn't fair of you to lay into her like that, because each and every one of us would have done the same thing to protect someone we cared about from being hurt…even you. You have done it before, Spencer, with Toby, although I guess not in quite the same way. But she didn't do anything wrong. She was forced into a terrible situation, and she did the only thing she could have, and you made her feel terrible over it, Spencer. I get that your feelings were hurt, really…it was a lose-lose situation. But that was unfair, to expect her to let someone she cared about get hurt or die just to stay with you. I'd leave Ezra in a heartbeat if you were in danger." A squeeze on her hand. "..you know I love you, but you have to apologize. I hate seeing the both of you so miserable."

"..how do you manage to combine the right amount of shame and compassion in the same statement?" Spencer asked, sitting up finally. "It's like you're Dali, but with words. You don't know what hit you until it's over and you've moved onto the next painting."

"So, does that mean you're going to apologize?" Aria asked, as Spencer swung her legs over the edge of her bed, starting to pull her boots back on.

"Of course that means I'm going to apologize." Spencer didn't look up as she carefully laced her boots. "People always say I'm the best at convincing people to do something, but you're, like, a sleeper agent or something."

"Thanks, I guess." Aria said, with a peculiar sort of laugh that trailed off after a moment. "You know, I never told Ezra I saw you." She said, out of nowhere, causing Spencer's head to jerk up.

"Wait, what?" Spencer asked slowly. She knew what she was talking about, she was just hoping Aria didn't.

"That night at the restaurant." And Spencer's stomach sank. "I never said anything. It seemed like…you didn't want to be seen there. And then he started talking about Hanna, and how he'd run into her, and I just…"

"Put three and three together?" Spencer finished for her.

Aria raised an eyebrow. "Two and two, Spencer." She said.

Spencer paused for a second. "Right, sorry. Anyway…did you?" She asked reluctantly.

"Not for awhile. I guess I just didn't get it, or didn't want to get it. I don't know…" She trailed off again as her phone vibrated on Spencer's bed. "…God, I can't even remember a time where I wasn't scared every time I got a text message." She murmured, grabbing her phone, sliding it open to check the message after a minute, Spencer watching her intently.

"Anyone we know?" She finally asked, flooded with relief as she watched Aria's lips curve into a smile. "Oh, it's _that _someone, okay."

"Yeah…he's got an interview in Philadelphia, at Drexel…just a TA position, but it's Philadelphia. It's only an hour away, I could see him…he's on his way, I have to go meet him." Aria said, grabbing her bag as she stood up.

"Well, tell Ezzie I said hello." Spencer arched an eyebrow, laughing as Aria rolled her eyes. "I'm kidding…I'm happy for you guys." She added, folding her hands in her lap, the statement ending on a melancholy note she hadn't meant to add…hadn't meant to feel, even.

"Hey." Aria stepped back over and kissed the top of her head. "It's going to be okay. And one of these days, I'll be able to be happy for you too."

* * *

><p><em>"Take two seems to be going a bit smoother." Spencer glanced up, her cheeks warming as Hanna's hand slid over hers on top of the table, in full view of everyone around them. It was going smoother – they'd made it past the door and to a table, (a table closer to the bar than she would have liked, but still a table,) without any discussion of why two younger girls were out alone together, and what it might mean for the 'image' of the establishment. Spencer's cautious optimism had bloomed into full contentment, and she was, for once, completely content. "Well, knock on wood, of course." Hanna added, with a bit of a smirk, lightly tapping the knuckles of her other hand on the dark wood of the table.<em>

_ "For the 'City of Brotherly Love,' Philadelphia sure is hostile." Spencer sighed, shaking her head._

_ "Yeah, Spence, I think that's a gang thing at this point." Hanna replied, sipping at her thin glass of water with half a lemon wedge jammed halfway down the glass. "You know…'brothas?'" She added, in a tone that made Spencer almost spit with laughter._

_ "For the love of God, don't ever do that again." Spencer gasped, trying to remain calm. "At least, don't do it in a place where I can't laugh like a hyena."_

_ "Oh, those things from the Lion King?" Hanna suddenly looked worried. "Those are scary."_

_ Spencer furrowed her eyebrows as she looked at her girlfriend, searching for the words. "I…they don't actually….you know what, never mind." She finally settled on, confused and yet endeared by Hanna's overwhelming innocence. She couldn't picture being that blissfully unaware…it had used to seem limiting to her. A handicap, some sort of hindrance. But now, being forced to interact with her, by being forced to see the world through her eyes, Spencer was beginning to realize that a little bit of innocence didn't have to be a bad thing._

_ "Have I mentioned how adorable I think you are?" Spencer asked, after a minute, propping her chin up in her hands._

_ Hanna pouted. "Don't…patronize me?" She said, sounding uncertain after a minute's pause._

_ "No, that was right!" Spencer said, laughing a little. "Mrs. Montgomery is totally going to think you're cheating when she gets that paper we've been working on together."_

_ "What can I say?" Hanna shrugged. "Dating you has been the best thing to happen to my GPA since they stopped showing reruns of Dawson's Creek on SOAP Network and I had nothing better to do than my algebra homework." The blonde grimaced, as if recalling a past torture._

_ "Okay, I don't even know what that is." Spencer sighed. One would think the differences between the two girls – in reality, they were opposites – would only serve to drive them apart rather than closer together, and certainly not their particular brand of closeness. But, somehow, it hadn't. By being the exact opposite of one another – with Spencer being serious, studious, and sometimes severe, and Hanna's easygoing outlook, flightiness when came to schoolwork, and her lighthearted humor – they managed to soften their own edges, and sharpen their curves, and along the way realized that they weren't so different anyway._

_ Their differences were also their strongest defense. They were more of an unlikely couple than Spencer and Toby, and that…that had been an odd match. The occasional glance or slip of the tongue, or mutual absence didn't raise alarm because no one would believe that they meant it. No one would believe they meant anything to the other besides friendship, and an often strained one at that. No one would believe that there was more to it than that. People saw the easiest explanation, the most clear cut path. Everything, so far, had worked in their favor._

_ "Spencer…Spencer…_Spencer!_" Hanna's panicked tone caught Spencer's attention finally, jerking her from her thoughts, making her look up to spot Hanna's equally panicked expression. She didn't get a chance to ask why, however, as Hanna pointed her towards the door, practically shaking._

_ It took her a moment, but Spencer was just as terrified, if not more, when she saw why._

_ Aria and Ezra were milling about by the doorway, waiting for a table. It took Spencer a second – after all, seeing Aria had never used to be a frightening experience, and Ezra only mildly so, as frightening as any teacher could be to someone like her - but panic leapt up into her throat, only mildly relieved as they were led to a table across the restaurant. They were concealed from them behind a curtain that divided one half of the restaurant from the other, but that provided little comfort._

_The secrecy was no longer comforting either. She could no longer find refuge in the fact that no one knew, only terror. The idea of confronting it, of revealing anything, or at least of being forced to by the circumstances...it was enough to make Spencer's stomach turn, and in no way could it be mistaken for food poisoning. "What the hell are they doing here?" The brunette asked, ducking behind the extensive wine list, trying to hide._

_"I think they're on a date." Hanna offered unhelpfully, but before Spencer could do more than glare at her, she cut her off. "I think the better question is 'What the hell are we going to do?'"_

_There was a long pause. "...I'll take the back entrance, you go out by the bar, we'll meet at my car and we'll...find a Denny's or something." Had the circumstances been any different, she would have grumbled over the loss of yet another opportunity to spend a decent evening with her girlfriend. But the sense of urgency was far too great to allow anything so idle. She barely had time to catch a glimpse of a fleeting sympathetic look on Hanna's features before she stood. "No time to wait." And there wasn't, not really, although she had to admit, she was going rather fast as she turned to try and get to the back entrance, her stress and her urgency and her speed all compounding on one another and overwhelming her to the point where she didn't see the waitress in time._

_"Spencer!" Hanna gasped in warning, but it was too late. As Spencer turned, she collided with their waitress, who had apparently also been catering to a table of yuppies, and was bringing all twenty of them (or at least it felt like twenty) a glass of red wine._

_Spencer closed her eyes. She didn't need to witness it. She could perfectly picture what a multitude of wine glasses crashing to the ground looked like. Not to mention she could feel it too, as they spilled all over her, the chilled liquid staining her dress and probably her skin as it crashed all over her._

_So much for not creating a scene._

* * *

><p>Spencer kept Aria at her house as long as she could, the dread of confronting her wrongdoing making her feel sick –physically sick; it hung like a weight in her stomach. But there was only so much of Spencer's coffee and nervous chatter that Aria could handle, and soon enough, Spencer was alone with both the dread and the weight of responsibility. The pressure of both forced her to go and start her car and drive away after only about five minutes, unable to sit there and ignore what she ultimately knew she had to do.<p>

But it seemed like no matter how many times she tried to turn into Hanna's driveway, or idled by her house, she couldn't stop, and go in. As uncomfortable as she was just sitting there and staring at the window to Hanna's room, the place she used to be the happiest, used to be herself in every form possible, the idea of going back up there and facing all that had transpired between them terrified her. And terror was far more overwhelming than just discomfort.

She took the turn away from Hanna's house on two wheels once she finally made the decision to run, eager to get away from that, from the idea of facing her demons. It had never been something Spencer was good at, be it inborn or a product of her upbringing, deep, personal confrontation was something she avoided when it could be helped. Especially with people as important to her as Hanna was.

She loved Hanna. There was no denying it, she realized, as she drove aimlessly through Rosewood, looking for a place to land where she could breathe, where she could think. She was in love with Hanna Marin, her complete opposite in everything from but gender, which was another problem in and of itself. Her family would be less than pleased, the Rosewood community would surely shun her, everything would be different in an instant if anyone found out she was…

Well, what the hell was she? Spencer leaned back in her seat as she pulled into a parking spot on Main Street. There had been Hanna – and, regrettably, Sage – but there had also been Ian and Alex and Wren and Toby, and she couldn't cancel that out, especially not Toby, who she really had loved, despite everything that had happened between them. She had been so sure about Toby, steady for once in her life, safe. At times, safer than she'd felt with even Hanna.

She leaned her now aching head against the steering wheel, shrieking in frustration. She hated this. She hated constantly being caught in this vicious cycle of confusion and self-loathing. No matter how hard she tried, she couldn't escape it…she couldn't break free. She had spent so much of her time and energy to sharply defining herself in the parameters set by her family, her school, and her society that not being able to at least vaguely call herself something was agonizing.

Before she could burst out crying in her car in another spectacular display of her receding sanity, Spencer wrenched the door open, getting out of the car, and began walking. Feeling the pavement under her feet, something solid and steady to ground her once more was a major relief. Not near the grounding she needed, or had felt with Hanna, but it was something, and more than the dizzying spin in open space since she'd fallen off that axis. She wasn't completely unused to chaos – after all, A had had them running in circles for over a year now, and being constantly on and off with Toby hadn't helped much in that respect – but this chaos was so far beyond any that she'd known it was almost comical.

So comical, in fact, that Spencer didn't even realize she was laughing until she physically had to brace herself against the wall to support herself. God, she really was losing it.

"Spencer…Spencer…_Spencer._" She didn't register the someone saying her name until a hand clamped down hard onto her shoulder and she jolted, taken out of her laughing state, glancing over until her dark eyes met guarded pale blue ones she had once known so well.

"Toby!" She gasped, scrambling away from him as if his touch had burned her, while in reality, it had actually felt rather nice, she realized as she looked back up at him, the remnants of the feeling radiating through her, warm and soft like sunlight. She didn't want to think about what that meant, however, so she tried to forget. "This is a surprise."

"Not really, if you'd been paying attention." Toby said, raising an eyebrow. Then and only then did Spencer realize that there was a white apron tied around his waist, and the logo of the Apple-Rose Grille was embroidered on his dark green polo shirt. He wrung a white dish cloth in his hands as he looked at her. "Are you okay? You seem a little…"

"Crazy?" Spencer ended the sentence for him. There was no other way she could have appeared, bursting out into hysterics in the middle of the day, in the middle of town.

"…I wouldn't have used that word, but yes." Toby said. Spencer looked down at the ground and smiled a little, shaking her head. She wouldn't pretend that didn't hurt a little, but she knew it was true – she really was crazy. "Come on…I've still got ten minutes before I have to go back…I'll walk with you."

"You don't have to do that." Spencer shook her head, wrapping her arms around her chest. He really didn't have to. He didn't owe her anything, not after the way things had ended between them. The threat of A had been too much, and there were still things she couldn't tell Toby, which, in the end, only served to break them up – but he was safe, and so was she, at least for the moment, so that was more important than their relationship being safe. Even so, she realized as he took her arm anyway and steered her down the sidewalk, that didn't mean she didn't regret it.

"What's up with you, Spencer?" She glanced over as he spoke, watching him carefully. He seemed genuine – not that he had ever seemed less than that during her time with him – like he still cared. "You seem different, and…well, not exactly in a good way. I don't mean to be rude, but…I'm kind of worried."

Spencer shrugged, pulling her arm away from his for the moment, wrapping her limbs around her chest again as she matched his slow, measured steps. "It's…been a rough week I'm not going to lie." She shook her head, looking everywhere but at him, unable to stand how gentle and concerned his gaze was. "Just…things. Drama. Nothing that's…unfamiliar."

"What kind of drama?" Toby asked. "I mean, with you I never know." She wasn't looking at him, but she knew he was shaking his head at past memories. "Let me guess….family issues?"

"Actually, not this time." Spencer had to force down another laugh. "Part of it, definitely, but not the source."

The next thing out of Toby's mouth, however, was something she never expected, or had ever wanted to hear someone say, especially not her ex-boyfriend of all people. "So…something must be wrong with you and Hanna."

Spencer stopped short on the sidewalk, finally turning to stare at him, trying to control the panic flooding into her expression. She could feel herself failing, her eyes going slightly wider than normal, her mouth dropping open just slightly. She was trying so hard to hold onto this shred of secrecy, one of the many that were slipping out of her grasp. And she was failing.

"What?" She finally got out, her voice lapsing into a higher register as she pressed her palm against her chest. "Where did you get that idea? I – "

Toby pressed two fingers to her lips to quiet her, staring down at her with his solemn, mysterious blue eyes. "I know, Spencer. It's not that hard to figure out. I mean…you look at her like you used to look at me."

Spencer tried to force her dry throat to swallow, staring back at him unblinkingly, trying to find a way out of it. Trying to hold onto at least one element within her control. But as the seconds ticked by, she realized that this was yet one more thing she had to release into the universe. One more shred of secrecy that had to be sacrificed. "Yeah." She finally whispered, as Toby removed his fingers from her lips. "We're having trouble. She broke up with me for reasons I can't understand, and I went and said some horrible things to her, and now we're at an impasse, and it's my move…and you know how much I hate those."

Toby's expression was inscrutable – she couldn't tell how he felt one way or another, and that bothered her. She needed to know how he felt. About her. About her and Hanna. Whether she liked it or not, his opinion was still important to her. "Sounds like you need to apologize."

"I do." She nodded, looking back down at the sidewalk. "I know. I just…I got so angry at her. I felt like she'd…completely written me off, or something, it's…it's complicated." She shook her head. "I just…I was angry."

"Anger is passionate." Toby said. "It shows you care…I don't remember you ever being that angry with me." The statement was loaded, and it hung heavy in the air between them for an instant before Toby spoke again. "I have to get back to work, but you should come sit with me at the bar and wait until I get off shift." As she lifted her eyes, he smiled, and somehow, it put her a little bit at ease. "I'll make you your favorite, on the house. Give you some time to think about what you're going to say."

For the first time in days, Spencer smiled. Genuinely smiled. "I'd like that."

* * *

><p><em>"Thanks." Spencer sighed, as the bathroom attendant handed her another towel, putting her up at four white washcloths that were now stained a light shade of pink as she sponged the wine off of herself. Her dark eyes flickered to the clock over and over again, timing herself, heart racing faster than the second hand. She couldn't be in there that long, they had to get out of there – she just didn't want to come home smelling like wine and have one more thing for her parents to yell at her about.<em>

_ Finally, she sighed resignedly, looking over at the attendant. "I don't mean to be a bother, but could you…turn around or something?" She watched as the blank-faced attendant carefully turned before she wriggled out of her dress. Her skin instantly broke out to goosebumps in the chilled air as she held the dress under the cold running faucet, eyes trained on the stream of water, waiting for it to run clear, so intensely focused that she didn't hear the door open._

_ "Spencer?" Not only was she figuratively frozen, she was literally frozen, staring at her sopping wet dress in the sink as she tried wildly to think of some excuse as to why she of all people would be standing in some rather indecent lingerie in the women's bathroom of an upscale restaurant an hour away from town. _

_ "Hey Aria." She finally say, pushing her hair out of her face as she turned towards her fried, wearing what she hoped was a convincing smile. "Had a little mishap in the dining room."_

_ "I…can see that…" Aria said haltingly as she stepped closer. "Ah…you probably know why I'm here…so why are you here?"_

_ "College interview." Spencer said the first thing that came to mind. "My dad set me up with this guy from Stanford. I don't have any intention of going, don't worry, but I still wanted to make a good impression, and…well, you can see how that went. Jackass spilled his Cabernet on me."_

_ Spencer watched Aria's expression carefully, holding her breath. "Wow, what a jerk." She said, and Spencer relaxed slightly, taking the dress out of the sink, ringing it out, grimacing when she saw some pink still in the water. "Are you okay? Do you need help?"_

_ "No, I'm okay." Spencer said, shivering as she slid the soaking wet dress on, wrapping her clammy arms around herself as she trembled slightly. "You go back to your date, I'm…I have to get back to that stupid table anyway. Bastard's probably drunk off his ass, but I have to please Daddy." She rolled her eyes as if she actually meant it – and in a way, she did. "You know how it is."_

_ Aria gave her a sympathetic nod, moving to the mirror, pulling out her make-up bag. "Good luck on the rest of your interview, Spence. Even though you don't need it. You could have a whole case of wine spilled on you, and still be fabulous."_

_ "Thanks, Aria." Spencer said softly, slipping out of the bathroom, her heart slamming against her ribcage, praying that her lie was good enough to keep her and Hanna from getting caught…_

_ Hanna paced around by the bar, trying to seem inconspicuous, waiting for Spencer to reemerge from the bathroom sans wine stains so they could go their separate ways in order to meet up again. She would have left altogether – in fact, she had tried – but there were a couple of sketchy guys lounging across the street from here they'd parked Spencer's car, so here she was. Braving a minefield instead of an execution squad._

_ "Hanna?" Fuck. She'd just stepped on a mine. More specifically, she'd stepped on a mine that had a penchant for books about metaphorical mockingbirds._

_ "Mr. Fitz!" Hanna turned suddenly, plastering on a cheerful smile, as cheerful as she could manage under the circumstance, placing her palms flat against the bar. "Well, this is a surprise."_

_ "It certainly is." Ezra cleared his throat – he knew the girls all knew, Hanna was sure of this. So why he maintained his distanced, 'adult' persona didn't really make sense for her. "Um…I hate to be that guy, but aren't you a little young to be…here?"_

_ Obviously he meant the bar. "Oh, no…no, I'm just…waiting for a date." She said, brightening up. "He said he'd meet me here, and I'm just...wondering where the hell he is."_

_ "Oh." If Ezra doubted this explanation, he didn't show it, and Hanna allowed herself to relax for a brief moment. "I see. Well…how's your schoolwork going?"_

_ "About the same. You know. Senior year is sort of a fluff year, so nothing too hard or anything. I do miss your English class though." Hanna wrung her hands, pausing only for a moment before she spoke again, trying to throw him off his guard enough so that he would forget how out of the ordinary her presence here would be. "Is Aria here with you?"_

_ Ezra's eyes widened and Hanna tried not to smile, hoping her goal had been realized. The man cleared his throat, before gesturing behind him with an outstretched thumb. "Ah, she's…bathroom." He got out._

_ It took Hanna a second. "B-bathroom?" She stuttered, gripping the edge of the bar behind her. No, no, no. She couldn't, as hard as she tried to, quell her panic and she pushed past him, looking for a way out. "I, um…I think I got stood up, I have to go." She said quickly, reaching back to grab her clutch, her only relief the fact that Ezra didn't stop her._

* * *

><p>Two hours, four cups of coffee and a grilled cheese sandwich later, Spencer and Toby linked arms outside the grill as he walked her to her car. It was just getting dark out, the air chilly, the streets mostly except for them and a few indiscriminate figures up ahead. "You're a real lifesaver, Toby." She said, glancing up at him. She meant it. If he hadn't kept her occupied, she wasn't sure what she would have done to avoid going back to Hanna's.<p>

"You mean I'm just a really good distraction." Toby laughed a little, tugging her closer. It was amazing how easily they fell back into old habits.

"No, I mean it." Spencer said, stopping as she leaned back against the silver SUV, reaching out to brush the unfortunately stiff fabric of his green polo shirt, her eyes unashamedly meeting his, finally realizing he held no ill will to her, and despite what she had thought, they were in a good place. "I liked spending time with you, Toby. We should do it more often."

"You mean it?" Toby asked, mild surprise coloring his gaze, pulling a nod from her. "I'd like that." He said gently, and Spencer realized her had taken a step closer, barely leaving space between them to breathe. It felt familiar, it had happened a hundred times before, in the not so distant past, and she knew what was coming. And she was okay with it, for the most part, trying to ignore the tight, uncomfortable feeling growing in her chest as Toby kissed her.

For a few seconds, she was able to ignore it, and it felt like it used to, her hands curling into the fabric of his shirt, however unpleasant it felt against her skin, her leg wrapped around one of his as he pressed her back against the cold exterior of her car. His fingertips pressed into the bare skin of her shoulders, carefully balanced against her as he kissed her.

It was exactly as she remembered it. His lips moving against hers just the same, his fingers racing the same patterns, his hands applying the same gentle pressure to hold her as they kissed. She still brought her hand up to fist in his hair the way she always had, and he still moved a hand up to cup her cheek, and pulled her closer, until they were a tangle of limbs and lips and Spencer wasn't sure how she could find her way out.

No, nothing had changed. Nothing but her, she realized, and her trying to force herself into something that shouldn't have to be forced at all. It was a realization that was nothing less than heartbreaking, and she couldn't make herself turn away from him for another few seconds, but she did. "I can't." She gasped, breathing hard, her stomach twisting in uncomfortable knots as she tried to get out from under his grasp. Hands that had once clutched at him now gently tried to push him away, and legs that were once tangled tried to disentangle, and it was all one big pull away from him that it left her physically exhausted. Like she'd just unplugged herself from her energy source.

He gazed at her again, in that inscrutable way that made her wish he'd get angry or kick something, as scary as that would be. Just so she would know how he was feeling. "I think you need to go to Hanna." He finally said, and that moment, out of all of them, made her realize how much she still cared for Toby Cavanaugh, and how much she still needed him in her life, even if it was a different way than before.

"You know me better than I know myself." She said softly, looking up at him, standing on her toes to give him a peck on the cheek. "You're…beyond belief, Toby Cavanaugh."

"I hope you mean in a good way." Toby said, with a hint of smile that finally reached his eyes, instantly causing Spencer to relax as she reached behind her for the door handle.

"Not many guys would tell their ex-girlfriends to go back to _their_ ex-girlfriends." Spencer said gently as she opened her door. "I mean it in the best possible way."

Toby paused for a long second, watching as Spencer climbed into her car, shutting her door for her, leaning in through the open window. "I just want you to be happy. Even if it's not with me."

Spencer watched him for a moment, leaning out the window and kissing him lightly. "If it weren't her, it would be you." She whispered, pulling away, resting her hands on the steering wheel as she watched him.

There was a warmth in his eyes, but also a sadness. "I don't think it ever will be." He said, patting the side of her car as if to send her off. "But thanks anyway, Spencer." And Spencer, not knowing what to say to that, drove away, her eyes locked onto the blue ones in her rearview mirror until she could no longer see them.

She'd be lying if she said the encounter with Toby hadn't shaken her. He had gotten under her skin, that much was clear, so much so that she missed the turn off onto Hanna's street twice before she finally made it down, gripping the wheel with shaking hands. Part of her wanted to go back to him – the other part knew she couldn't. And maybe the part that wanted to, too, underneath. The kiss that had felt so forced and strained told her enough about why she couldn't.

Somehow, the realization that she was very likely gay was less shocking than it should have been.

But as underwhelming as it was, she was still caught off guard, and was still rolling it over and over in her head, caught up in it to the point where she almost didn't notice as the front door to Hanna's opened and shut. It wasn't until she heard the heavy footfalls on the porch that she realized what had happened, and she looked up to find Caleb, pausing on the last step as they locked eyes.

And by the way he glared at her, she knew that he knew exactly what had happened.

* * *

><p><em> "God." Hanna said, giving Spencer a once over as she walked up to the car, where Hanna was securely locked inside, having rolled down a window to get some air only moments before. "You look like a drowned – "<em>

_ "If you end that sentence with 'rat,' we're breaking up." Spencer cut her off, sliding into the car as she shivered, trying to turn the key with her trembling fingers._

_ "I was going to say…you know what, never mind." Hanna said hurriedly. "Please tell me there were two different ladies' rooms, and you didn't run into Aria."_

_ "…there was only one ladies' room and I ran into Aria while I was half naked." Spencer said, rolling her eyes in Hanna's direction. "I think I came up with a pretty good excuse, though, I don't think she suspected a thing." She said, as she finally got the car started, putting it in reverse. "Hey, I think there's a diner around the – "_

_ "Spencer!" Hanna cut her off, whipping her hair out of her face to look at her. "Red alert. Code blue. Why are those things the same, they're not even the same color – the point is, we've got a problem!" Hanna said, clearly out of sorts, her hands making spastic movements with her words. "Ezra saw me. They know we were both here. If they put three and three together – "_

_ "Two and two, Hanna!" Spencer snapped, cutting her off in her panic. "And they might. God, we are so screwed!" This word was said with such vehemence that Spencer slammed on the gas pedal out of fear and resignation and sheer frustration. It had been raining, so it could have been that, or perhaps an oil slick from a junker that had gone before them, but all of a sudden, the wheels lost their traction and failed to catch on the wet road as it went into an uncontrollable tailspin._

_ There was screaming – Spencer wasn't sure who was screaming more; Hanna, herself, or the tires as they screeched against the pavement, trying to find traction. She let go of the wheel, shaking, giving up trying to get control and just riding it out, praying that the car wouldn't slam into a building or a person or another car. For the first few seconds it was literally painful to just give up the wheel and hope for the best. Resisting the urge to jerk it one way or another and try to guide it out of the tailspin – even though she knew it would ultimately make it worse – was difficult beyond belief._

_ But in the tailspin, in the chaos, in the spin of their axis and into open, wild space, Spencer found Hanna's hand. And suddenly, the overwhelming need to try and fight their chaotic, uncontrollable spinning off, in both the back alley turn off to a Philadelphian eatery and in the world of their slowly crumbling veil of secrecy, wasn't that overwhelming at all._

_ And yes, the car stopped spinning, but the world would never stop being against them. As Spencer looked over at Hanna through tears of relief, she realized that she'd been doing it all wrong – kicking out at everything that grabbed onto her, and digging in her heels, and jerking the steering wheel, all when she knew that it would make no difference – all it did was make her feel like she was a little bit more in control, but it didn't give her any actual control over her situation, and it never would._

_ So Aria and Ezra might figure it out? There were worse people who they could have run into. She was seriously questioning her previously well-defined sexuality? She was only human. It was allowed. And while she wasn't entirely ready to just dance around in the rain or whatever other kind of display of spontaneity there was, for the moment, as long as she could hold Hanna's hand, and have that one little thing to ground her…no matter how bad things got around her, around them, she'd always have something holding her back from self-imposed destruction._

_ It took a second for the shock to wear off, and Spencer closed her eyes for a second as she laid back against the chair, trying to focus on Hanna, the one thing that tethered her down, when she felt a sting and heard a slapping noise. "What the hell?" Hanna snapped, her voice at least an octave higher. "What were you thinking? You know how I feel about cars! You could have – I could have – "_

_ Spencer cut her off by pulling her over for a kiss, which only lasted for a few seconds before Hanna pushed her away. "Spencer Hastings, what has gotten into you? Or entire…thing is falling apart, and we almost just – "_

_ "It's okay." She pressed her fingers to her lips to quiet her._

_ "But – "_

_ "Trust me." Spencer whispered, lips against her forehead. "Everything's going to be okay."_

* * *

><p>Before Spencer could even breathe, Caleb was at her car window, rapping on it with a very unpleasant expression on his features, wrapping on the window with his knuckles so sharply that he almost punched her in the face when she rolled the window down finally. (Although she suspected that it wouldn't have been an accident if he had.)<p>

"What do you want?" She asked carefully, in the very slim offchance that she was just blocking him in or some other mild grievance instead of the obvious one. "I'm sort of busy."

"What are you, stalking her now?" Caleb asked. It was no secret that the two weren't fond of each other, even before the whole debacle over Hanna's affections. She had always found him to be too dark, too enmeshed in his shady past to ever be trusted wholly, and he found her pretentious and snobby – at least, that was what she thought. In reality, his image of her was probably a lot worse. Not that she blamed him.

"I honestly don't see how that's any of your business." Spencer said, leaning out the window slightly, hanging onto her nerve as tightly as she possibly could, standing her ground. After everything that had happened to her, a jealous ex-boyfriend was way down on the list of things that intimidated her – even if Caleb did have a certain fear-instilling quality to him that appealed to the most basic sense of her femininity.

There was a long minute where they just stared at each other, a minute where Spencer was expecting something to happen – yelling, hitting, other violent and jealously-motivated actions. She was prepared for it, so much so that she was almost disappointed that nothing happened. Nothing other than him suddenly leaning in her open window, that was.

"Look." He said, in a way that let Spencer know he meant business. "I don't like you. And you don't like me, and I don't think we really have to discuss the reasons out loud." He sighed, pushing some of his longer hair back out of his face. "Hanna's in there, and she's…she's more hurt than she ever was with me, and if you're here to fix that, you'd better go and do that." His demeanor steeled up even further and he leaned in a little closer. "And if you ever hurt her like that again, I will come all the back here and make you sorry for it."

This, Spencer didn't doubt.

Before she could say anything back to him, however, Caleb already had his bag over his shoulder and was walking off into the sunset – literally. She hadn't realized it was that late, not until she watched him leave, blending into the rapidly darkening sky. She sat in her car for a moment, steadying herself. So what if Caleb had been there, in Hanna's house? Clearly, they weren't together, he had made that very clear. Spencer tried so hard not to live in the crazy jealous place, but she couldn't help it sometimes – and now was one of those times. So she sat in her car, with dusk falling around her, and watched to make sure Caleb was truly gone – for good, hopefully – before she slipped out of the car and carefully made her way up the stairs to Hanna's.

She found the front door unlocked , a decision she found unwise, with A running around, although at this point, she was sure she was just about as welcome as the masked wonder bitch and the twelve cellphones stuffed in her oversized black hoodie. She carefully closed the door behind herself and made her way to the kitchen quietly, where she could hear Hanna moving about, slamming cupboard and banging pans – she wasn't happy, but Spencer already knew that. "You know, you really shouldn't let your guests leave your front door open." She said, as she wound around the corner into the kitchen.

Whatever Hanna was holding was immediately tossed in the air, the pan crashing to the ground. "_Spencer!_" She hissed, as she came to her senses, staring at the brunette with what looked like a mixture of fury and apprehension. "What the hell are you doing here? You gave me a fricking heart attack."

"Well, you really shouldn't be leaving your doors unlocked." Spencer replied, taking a few steps closer. "You know…gotta keep the riff raff out."

Hanna turned again, clearly in no mood for word play. "If you're going to start on me and Caleb again, you can walk your ass back out that door." She snapped, throwing a dirty dish into the sink with such vehemence that the soapy, murky water splashed the wall. "Back out where you belong, with the rest of the riff raff."

"…I won't pretend like I didn't deserve that." Spencer said, after a minute. She would pretend, however, that it didn't hurt. After what she did, she had no right to outwardly express the sting Hanna had caused. "Hanna, can we…can we talk?"

"I tried to get you to talk." Hanna wasn't looking at her as she busied herself with more dishes, each falling into the sink with an empty metallic thunk. "Look what happened. If you think I'm going to get into that again, you aren't as smart as everyone says you are. Besides," She added, with a pointed glare. "I'm busy."

"…then let me help." Spencer said, trying not to dwell too much on what Hanna was saying, moving over to the counter, sinking her hands into the murky depths of the sink, soap suds swirling on the surface around her wrists as she felt around the bottom for something to wash. She ignored Hanna's protests, not even registering the words she was speaking until she felt something sharp slice deep into the palm of her left hand.

An almost inhuman yelp of pain sounded from the back of her throat as she jerked her hand out of the sink, splashing herself with the now slightly pink tinted water, (later reminding her of the red wine washing out of her dark blue dress.) For a moment, she just stared at the blood welling in in the gash on her hand, her rapid heartbeat pounding in her ears, beginning to drown out the sound of Hanna throwing drawers open in search of first aid and the water still running and everything else.

She had cheated death already once and had spent the last year and a half being constantly tormented, but the sight of blood, particularly her own, still made her sick to her stomach.

"Spencer!" She barely heard Hanna as she snapped at her, only looking away as Hanna wrapped a dishtowel around her injured hand, wincing as she applied pressure to the cut, pressing her thumbs down against her palm. "Jesus. Are you okay?" Before she could even nod, Hanna went on. "You are such an idiot, I was trying to tell you that the sink was full of knives. Were you just ignoring me?"

"Well…yeah." Spencer said, as she found her voice, albeit cracked. "I just…I needed to find a way to get you to actually talk to me, or at least be within three feet of me without spitting acid like a hydra."

"Hydras don't spit acid." Hanna said absentmindedly, as she pulled the stained towel away from Spencer's hand to check it, unaware that Spencer was staring at her, open mouthed. "Their breath is poisonous or something…what?" She finally asked, looking over at her. "Did I get blood on me or something?"

"…you just corrected me, and you were right." Spencer said, blinking a couple of times. "I don't know what's stranger, the fact that I was wrong, or that fact that you knew I was wrong."

Hanna looked at her with a raised eyebrow as she pressed the towel to the cut again. "And you're trying to be endearing? I think you're wrong about that too." She reached over to the counter, picking up a roll of gauze. "Now hold still."

"It's working, isn't it?" Spencer had to look away from her as she began to wrap her hand, wincing at the feel of the rough gauze against her skin. "I mean…we're talking."

"I'm bandaging a wound that's partially my fault and making polite conversation." Hanna said, sounding as though she was concentrating more on the former rather than the latter. "Don't get it confused with something else."

"Why was Caleb here?" Spencer asked, instantly regretting it. That, of all things, shouldn't have been the first thing on her mind. She could tell that Hanna agreed by the way the bandages were suddenly, uncomfortably tight. "I'm not asking from the crazy, jealous place." She got out before Hanna could speak. "I just…I was wondering. I didn't know you guys still talked."

"Well, unlike you, some of us are actually able to be friends with our exes." Hanna sighed, her voice considerably more tense than before. Spencer almost mentioned Toby, and what had transpired no more than twenty minutes prior, but at the last second, remembering the kiss, thought better of it. "And even though it's none of your business…" Hanna went on, pausing as she taped up Spencer's hand. "His birth mom's husband got a fancy new job in Canada, and he's going to go with them. Vancouver, so…that's really far away from Rosewood, and he wanted to come and say goodbye." Hanna released her hand, and Spencer was finally able to look over and meet Hanna's gaze.

"Thanks." She said softly, tracing the tape and gauze with the fingertips on her uninjured hand. "Vancouver, huh? That is pretty far…"

"Don't." Hanna snapped forcefully, folding her arms over her chest. "I know where you're going with that thought, and you need to stop right there."

Caleb being vulnerable to A was the only reason we broke up. Now he's not. "But – " Spencer caught herself, remembering the tailspin in Philadelphia, forcing herself to stop jerking the metaphorical steering wheel and just go with it. "No, no…you're right." Spencer sighed. "I…I came here to apologize, and…so far, I've done everything but that." She stepped forward, folding her hands as best as she could. "This morning, I was…hurt, and upset…and I just lost it. None of that should have been said." The mere memory of it was beginning to make her stomach creep up into her throat, her cheeks burning with shame. "You were…completely justified in what you did, even if I don't necessarily agree with the method you did it in. And I shouldn't have yelled at you like that…said those things." Spencer swallowed hard, her eyes dropping from Hanna's as they began to fill with tears she wished desperately would go away. "And I could never hate you." She gasped, or rather was forced to, as her voice broke. "And I am so, so sorry…I know that probably can't fix anything I've done, but…God, Hanna…" She swiped at her eyes, trying to breathe. "I'm sorry." And with those words, she poured all of her transgressions over the past few days into them – Sage and Toby, and the horrible things she'd said, not only to Hanna, but to her mother. All of the lies she'd told – to her family, to Aria, to herself. "…I'm sorry."

"You're….you're bleeding through." Hanna spoke haltingly, and Spencer looked up at her at once, confused at her reaction, trying not to seem too hurt until she looked at her bandaged hand and realized that she was indeed bleeding through the gauze. "Here, go…go sit out on the patio. I'll re-wrap it, it wasn't that tight…" Hanna ushered her over to the clear glass table that sat out on the patio, laying the very bewildered Spencer's hand out as she carefully worked at it.

There was silence as Spencer tried to wipe at her eyes with her free hand, watching as Hanna worked very carefully at her hand, oddly silent. Finally, just when she'd resigned herself to the fact that Hanna had heard her apology, but didn't care, the blonde whispered. "Tu me manques."

"What?" Spencer looked up to meet Hanna's clear blue eyes, pulling her hand back to her chest.

"You left your French book here." Hanna said softly, only holding her gaze for a moment before pulling hers down, fixing on some unseen point in the glass of the table. "Ad I was flipping through the index one day because I was going to write a nasty note in it and have Emily give it back to you, but…tu me manques. That means – "

"I miss you." Spencer finished for her, her voice tremulous, weak, trying not to put too much strength into what she was saying, or too much stock into what Hanna was saying – she was far too battered for that kind of hope. "…it means 'I miss you.'" Hanna nodded, opening her mouth to speak, but Spencer stopped her again, carefully resting her injured hand on the clear table. "But…the literal translation of that is…'you are missing from me.' Like…you're were a vital part of me, and now that you're gone, it's…it's left this void."

A brief silence, and then Hanna moved her hand over to Spencer's, carefully placing her hand over the gauze, tracing the edge of the gauze, the tips of her nails brushing against her skin. "…are you just trying to explain that to me?" She asked, lifting her eyes again, meeting hers unwaveringly this time, and despite herself, Spencer was hopeful, in the smallest sense of the term. "…or do you mean that?"

Spencer leaned forward without even realizing she was doing it. "I mean in in every possible way." She whispered, flipping her hand over and gripping Hanna's as best as she could with the gauze covering her hand, trying to tell her just how _much_ she meant it. "Do you remember that night, in Philadelphia? When we almost got caught in that car accident? That's how I've felt without you…like I'm in a tailspin…like I'm not even being held down by gravity. Do you know how terrifying that is for me? To feel like I'm out of control? And…and then, when I'm with you…everything is still falling apart, but…I have you, well…I had you." She quickly corrected herself. "And suddenly, it wasn't so terrifying."

Suddenly, swiftly, everything happened at once. Hanna's chair scraped against the concrete patio as she practically leapt into Spencer's lap, her knees gripping her hips tightly as she breached the vast distance between them and kissed her, hands cupping the back of her neck, fingertips twisting into her hair, completely catching Spencer by surprise – for once, she didn't mind it in the slightest. She didn't care that Hanna's mom could walk in at any moment, or that the door was probably still unlocked, or that Hanna had put her through the ringer, and she'd reciprocated in kind. She didn't care that Aria and Emily and Melissa and Toby all knew, and this would somehow, eventually, lead to even more deductions and awkward reveals – that the secrecy would finally and ultimately slip from their hands.

She didn't care because those hands were on Hanna's hips, and the lips that had somehow managed to restrain the ocean of secrets were otherwise occupied, and her head ached like she was dizzy, but in such a perfect way that this was tailspin she didn't mind one bit.

* * *

><p>AN: Heyyyy. I'm so sorry this took so long to update. I've been lazy, I won't make excuses. A bit of writer's block and whatnot, plus summer just makes me lazy in general. I won't promise more regular updates, but I'll try, and I promise I'll be finishing this story eventually. (Because it's NOT over yet.) I also have ideas for a few more so look out for those ;)


	7. Magic Pt 1

_There was a party next door. A thin vein of bass and loud talking pulsed through the otherwise quiet atmosphere of Hanna's room, where the girl herself laid curled against her girlfriend's chest. A textbook laid propped open on her lap as she gazed with wonder up at the brunette, who was silently mouthing French vocabulary. Lost in her work, as her dark eyes scanned the sheet of vocabulary with eerie speed and efficiency, it was only as Hanna began to not-so-innocently play with the hem of Spencer's skirt that she even noticed something was going on._

_ "Hanna…" Spencer finally tore her eyes away from the textbook, looking down at the blonde. "You're supposed to be helping me study for my speaking test." She tried to let warning lapse into her tone, but as Hanna's fingertips traveled further up her thigh, it was hard to sound anything less than breathless._

_ "You've been fluent in French since you came out of the womb, Spencer." Hanna pushed the book off the bed, ignoring Spencer's noise of protest as she climbed into the brunette's lap. She placed one hand to her chest as she gently and yet persuasively pushed her down against the mattress. "You don't need my help. I took Spanish. For one year. If you really wanted help, you'd ask Aria. Or your sister. Not me. Which leads me to believe…" She trailed off as she suddenly dropped down on top of her. "…Homework is actually the last thing on your mind."_

_ Spencer arched an eyebrow as she looked up at her girlfriend, freeing one of her pinned arms to tuck back some of the blonde hair that hung around them in a curtain. "Are you sure you're not getting you and me confused again?" She asked. "Teaching someone helps me learn better, that's why I asked you. Plus, it's a good excuse to just…sit here and look at you." She punctuated her sentence with a smile._

_ "Teach me something…dirty." Hanna closed the distance briefly to kiss her before pulling away, playfully biting at her lower lip as she did do. "In French, or otherwise…"_

_ Spencer gasped, shifting beneath Hanna, displeased with her position of submission, poised to push her away before she simply leaned up, lips lightly brushing Hanna's ear. "J'ai envie de toi…desesperement." She breathed, smirking as she felt Hanna go slack against her. "Permettez-moi de te faire l'amour…" At the signals of Hanna's gasps, and the trembles that sparked through her body, Spencer gripped her shoulders hard and brought her in for a kiss, instantly slipping her tongue past the barrier of her lips. For once in her life, she found it oh so easy to abandon her work and lose herself._

_ Spencer could feel the magic of Hanna's kiss working its way through her, the sweet poison of it spreading its way through her veins until she was all but consumed by it. The taste of her lipgloss sparking across her tongue, the sensation of nails being dragged along her spine ever so lightly as she shifted them upright…she cupped Hanna's cheeks to keep her close, honestly fearing the moment they broke apart. She dreaded losing it, losing the connection, losing the magic._

_ She smirked into the kiss as she felt Hanna's hands dip beneath the fabric of her shirt, running along her lithe body before resting on her stomach. Liquid warmth pooled through her, originating from wherever on her skin that Hanna touched. Her lungs were burning for air, and – loving every second of it – she slipped her hands away from her face and down to the collar of her shirt, seizing it and dragging her tighter against her. She deftly worked the buttons undone one by one until she was slipping the slim fabric off her shoulders, finally breaking the kiss only to almost immediately press her lips to the flushed skin of Hanna's shoulder, smirking yet again as she felt the blonde practically melt at her attention._

_ Very slowly, she slid a light two fingers up the line of Hanna's spine, beginning at the apex of her lower back. With that hand slipped underneath her bra clip, Spencer moved her lips to Hanna's neck, using her teeth in a precise way, avoiding marking her physically, but biting down just hard enough to leave an imagined mark, a mental mark. 'You're mine, Hanna.' That was what it said. Simple, and yet meaning so much more than that, and Spencer knew she understood simply by the way she clung to her, digging her perfectly manicured nails into her shoulders._

_ The thing about Spencer, however, was that she had a sixth sense, stemming from the many times her parents had gotten in between her and Toby when they were still dating. So she knew before the knock even sounded on the door, and had her free hand covering Hanna's mouth just as she let out a soft moan, muffling the sound enough to hear the knock over it. Hanna turned away from her hand for a second, catching her breath before getting out a hoarse "We're studying, mom, go away!"  
>"It's me." A slightly gruff male voice answered, a voice that Spencer knew belonged to Hanna's semi-absent father. "Hanna, we need to talk, could you come out here, please?" He didn't sound at all pleasant. In fact, it didn't sound like Hanna had a choice.<em>

* * *

><p>Spencer always swore up and down, the best sleep she'd ever had was the night they returned from a week at the lake house when she was eight years old. That morning, she and her sister had gone for one last thrash in the lake, which had turned into an epic race to the dock. (Surprise, surprise, Melissa returned triumphant.) By the time they were back on shore and safely buckled into the car, Spencer was damp and cold and her limbs felt like lead – but she was determined to stay awake. Melissa conked out during the first ten minutes of the rife, having clearly given her all in the impromptu race, but Spencer…well, she still needed to beat Melissa somehow, right? (Even if it was small and petty, it would still mean something.)<p>

So she struggled with burning eyes and painstakingly read about three pages of 'Great Expectations' – a fitting choice – before the car glided smoothly into the driveway, the equivalent of a victory cheer in her eyes. Even though it now seemed so small, in that moment, as she watched her father gingerly lift her thirteen year old sister out of the car, she felt like she'd won a gold medal. And it only got better as she tripped up the stairs, slipped between her sheets and finally let herself succumb to slumber, the satisfaction finally moving into just bliss and worry-free dreams for the first time since she had started school and had been entered into unwilling competition against her sister. She had never slept better, and up until now, she swore she never would.

But this was better. Even that cherished childhood memory, one of the few peaceful ones she had, could not stand up to being in Hanna Marin's bed the morning after their reconciliation. The sheets were warm against her mostly bare skin, and the pillow top mattress cradled her expertly, and sunlight dappled across the bedspread, over Hanna's hair as she slept under Spencer's watchful eye. With a gentle brush of her fingertips, she brushed the blonde locks away from Hanna's cheek, leaning down to press a feather light kiss against her soft skin, savoring the feel of it under her lips once again. Now this was perfection, with her arm wrapped securely around the smaller girl's waist, the warmth of her body bleeding through the thin layer of the bedsheet. It had been magic to sleep next to her like that again after everything that had transpired between them, pure magic, enough to make Spencer wonder if her sleep had, in fact, been her dream.

"Hey." Spencer whispered as she kissed her again, just beneath her ear, dragging her fingertips along the line of her jaw. "We do have school, you know."

"Mmm, why did you remind me?" Hanna mumbled, turning against her touch before she finally rolled over, opening her eyes, her gaze glazed over and vacant as she obviously struggled against the impulse to go back to sleep. "Can't we just stay in bed all day? Make up for lost time…?" Hanna buried her face in Spencer's neck, kissing a line across her skin, down her shoulder.  
>Spencer laughed a little, breathless, moving a hand to Hanna's shoulder, gripping her. "Yeah, I don't think so." She said, trying to avoid the obvious catch in her voice as Hanna persistently kissed her. "Two weeks, even if it was spent in agony, is not enough to validate missing a day of school for…other activities."<p>

"I don't know if I should be impressed by your strength of will or insulted." Hanna said, her voice still muzzy with sleep, as she snuggled in closer against her, fingers curling into the thin fabric of her tank top. "Guess I'll just have to change your mind." Without giving Spencer the time to react, she kissed her, sliding her arms around her neck.

Magic. It was the only word strong enough, and the only word strange enough to really begin to describe how Hanna made her felt, what Hanna could do. Not even ten seconds after their lips met, school was a distant memory, instead replaced by much more recent ones. Her fingertips feeling the warmth of Hanna's skin beneath the thin fabric of her pajamas, the scent of sunlight and the gardenias blooming just below Hanna's window wafting through the room, the lips on hers, the hands and the pathways they traced through her dark hair…every second of it was magic. Done in secret, things she couldn't explain, things she had never thought possible. It could _only_ be some sort of magic.

A faint knock on the door barely broke through the barrier of her thoughts – in fact, it wasn't until she felt Hanna react that she realized what was happening. "I changed my mind." She whispered, dragging Hanna back across the bed, burying her face in her shoulder, kissing along the juncture of her neck. "Fuck school."

Hanna laughed a little, the sound barely audible, digging her nails into Spencer's shoulders slightly, ignoring the next knock as it came. "I knew I could change your mind." She whispered, her breath catching a little as Spencer nipped at her skin.

* * *

><p><em>With a sigh of resign, Spencer slipped her hand out from under Hanna's bra, carefully watching Hanna's expression quickly change to something that suggested she'd been kicked. "Hey." Spencer whispered, her heart wrenching slightly to see her girlfriend so upset. "Look at me." She reached out, tipping her chin upward with the gentle pressure of her fingertips. "Do not put him in the position to break you." She continued to speak softly. "He hasn't done enough for you, he hasn't earned that right. Got it?"<em>

_ Hanna's nod was timid, but immediate, and as she grasped a t-shirt in her hands, she leaned forward and kissed Spencer. "I wish you'd listen to your own advice sometimes." She said softly, before slipping the fabric over her head. "You should go wait down in the kitchen or something…this could get kind of messy." She sighed heavily. "Plus, you'll need stamina for later…" She added, her demeanor shifting as she placed one more kiss on Spencer's cheek. "Go on."_

_ "If you insist." Spencer said, reluctantly moving towards the door. With one last glance at Hanna, she carefully opened it, smoothing her hair as she went, moving past Tom with little more than a glowering look, heading down the stairs to the kitchen, food the very last thing on her mind. Still, she ended up in front of the microwave with a bored expression weighing on her features as she watched a bag of popcorn slowly inflate, glancing up every so often as she checked for the signs of raised voices._

_ "Oh, Spencer, I didn't know you were here." Spencer jumped, turning as she heard Ashley speak. "Is Hanna upstairs?"_

_ "Uh, yeah." Spencer replied, ignoring the microwave as it went off. "She's with Tom – er, Mr. Marin, he…stopped by to speak with her."_

_ Ashley dropped the keys on the counter, staring at Spencer for a moment, before her expression clearly showed her contempt for her ex-husband. "I told him to stay away, dammit." She instantly moved towards the stairs. "Spencer, you stay here."_

_ The order went unheeded, and Spencer was at her heels, the two of them halfway up the stairs before all hell broke loose. Raised voices suddenly echoed through the walls, and before they knew it, Hanna was practically tripping down the stairs in tears, brushing past them without a word, headed straight for the door. Tom was thundering down after her only a second later, stopping only as Ashley grabbed his arm, Spencer trying to go after Hanna, stopped short by the front door slamming in her face. She should have gone after her immediately, but something in her made her turn around, facing Tom, her features set in anger against his own, set in disbelief. "See what you've done?" Spencer snapped. "All she's ever wanted is to be a daughter you can be proud of! She tries so hard, and sure, she makes mistakes, but God, she tries, and who are you to judge her for her slip ups? You've certainly made enough of them, and yet everyone you love comes rushing to forgive you, your daughter included. So whatever you have left to say to Hanna doesn't matter, you are done. Because someone as special and as loving as she is doesn't deserve to be torn down for every tiny mistake." The tirade came flowing out of her with no resistance, every word spoken with acid in her tone. Shocked at herself for a second, Spencer took a step back, before she realized that everything she had said was true and she stood her ground, meeting Tom's vacant and stunned expression with little difficulty._

_ It was Ashley who spoke first after the air, still thick with Spencer's charged words, finally began to settle. "Tom, get out." She said, stepping off the stairs, taking Spencer's arm. "We're going to go find Hanna. And I don't want to see you around here when we get back, or any time soon."_

* * *

><p>The door opened with barely any warning, the sound causing Spencer to jerk way from Hanna, falling onto the floor in a tangle of sheets and pillows. Hanna was still buried under the comforter, looking beyond scandalized. "Dad!" She gasped, and it was only then that Spencer realized that it was none other than Tom Marin standing at the door. "You could knock!"<p>

Spencer drew the sheet to her chest, glowering at Tom. (While silently thankful that his sudden entrance had caused her to fall onto the floor and therefore look like she had been there all night, rather than in bed with Hanna.) Tom glanced at her for a second, before looking away, expression almost fearful, which made Spencer laugh a little internally. "I'm, ah, here to drive you to school, Hanna…Spencer too, I suppose…your mom said it might be a good idea."

"I find that hard to believe." Hanna grumbled. "Can you go? Neither of us are really ready, and I'd prefer not to go to school looking like a half-naked Bride of Frankenstein."

"Alright, just…be ready soon, alright?" Tom said, to his credit, trying to be gentle. (Not that Spencer afforded him much credit.) "Don't want to be late. Although I guess Spencer will keep you on schedule." The joke was feeble, and it earned him a glare from both girls that sent him back through the door without another word.

"This is just fucking great." Hanna snapped ripping the sheets off of herself, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed. "I can't do this, again, Spencer. I can't." Hanna moved straight over to her vanity, sitting down, eyes growing increasingly red by the second as she fumbled with her makeup, eventually just flinging it off the table, burying her head in her hands. "I can't survive this again." She gasped, her shoulders beginning to shake. Spencer watched on helplessly, trying to untangle herself from the sheets as quickly as possible, her heart breaking for her girlfriend. "He's just going to leave again, or I'll fuck up again, and he'll hate me again, and I just…I can't!"

"Hanna…" Spencer said softly, making her way over to the blonde, laying hands on her shoulders, leaning in close, pressing her face against the blonde's. "Hanna, listen to me. You don't have to give him a chance. He doesn't deserve a chance, not after the way he's treated you. Not after all of the times that he's made you feel like you're less than perfect the way you are."

"I'm not perfect." Hanna murmured, closing her eyes as she leaned against Spencer more heavily. Tears had begun to roll down her cheeks, and Spencer was torn between heartbreak, and being so angry at Tom that her blood boiled. "God, I'm not."

"Who is?" Spencer asked. "You've seen me exhibit all of my neuroses – and a few I didn't know I had – in the past few weeks. Your father? Is the most flawed person I've ever met, outside of my own family. No one is perfect, Hanna. No one can be what society says they should. The ones that are? They're illusions, and they have their moments of imperfection behind closed doors. Just because you don't see them, doesn't mean it doesn't happen. You are the person you are supposed to be. You always were."

Hanna hiccupped, turning in her seat to face Spencer, gazing up at her with red-rimmed eyes, face wet with tears. "I wish I could believe you." She whispered, and suddenly, all of Spencer's previous heartbreak seemed so trivial and small compared to this.

"One day, you will." Spencer leaned in, pressing a feather light kiss to nose. "I promise. I am done telling you things that are untrue and uncalled for. You can trust me." She didn't know she was going to say it until a split second before, as she was exhaling a shaky deep breath she'd just taken. But she realized, for once, she didn't want to stop it. "Hanna…I love you."

Hanna gasped a little, her eyes getting slightly larger as she gazed up at Spencer, reaching up and tracing her jawline. Her expression was hesitant, searching, as if she wanted to believe it, but was afraid to, looking for something to assure her, one way or another. Spencer held her gaze, steady and strong, her breath hitching slightly as Hanna's fingertips brushed along her skin. She leaned in slightly, covering Hanna's hand with her own. "You mean it." Hanna finally said softly. "You really mean it, don't you?"

"I do." Spencer promised, lacing their fingers and pulling her hands down. "I do, I _do_ mean it. I've known it since…since you left me, really, I guess. That night, after we hooked up in the car, it just hit me. I _love_ you, Hanna Marin…I love you."

Hanna hiccupped again, leaning in and pressing her forehead to Spencer's. "Since that night we were kicked out of the restaurant." She said softly, her voice still shaking as she recovered from her crying jag. "I wanted to say it, I was…I was _going_ to tell you, but that jackass waiter got in the way, and then you were so upset, I didn't want to pile more crap on you, and then everything went to hell."

"Hanna…you loving me isn't crap." Spencer said softly. "It's wonderful...I've never felt anything like it. I would give up being loved by anyone else, if you promised you'd love me for the rest of our lives."

"I promise." Hanna whispered after a long moment, leaning in and kissing her, taking her face in both hands. "It was soft, and it was sweet, but it was strong, as if sealing the promise. "…but we have school." Hanna said, as she pulled away. "We should probably get ready."

"Wow, I really am rubbing off on you." Spencer laughed, faltering a little bit at the loss of Hanna's lips on hers.

"Not yet." Hanna said, with a suggestive glance and a peck on the lips before she slid off the chair. "We could shower together…save time. Save water. Everyone wins…"

* * *

><p><em>"Hanna!" Spencer cupped her hands around her mouth, calling for her, beginning to grow more and more panicked as the seconds ticked by. "Hanna?!" She had moved past the anger at Tom, and was now fully preoccupied with finding her very distraught girlfriend, admittedly terrified of what could happen to her, or what she might do if left to her own devices for so long. <em>

_ "You're not going to get anywhere like that, Spencer." Ashley said, lifting a large, heavy looking flashlight into the car. "Come on, we're going on a Hanna hunt."_

_ "Has she done this before?" Spencer asked, hesitating. It wasn't that Ashley intimidated her – well, actually, it was exactly that. Ashley was an intimidating woman, and while Spencer was good at lying to her family, she got the distinct impression that Ashley didn't take any shit. Even with the strict secrecy of her relationship at stake, Spencer wasn't sure she could keep any secret from Ashley if directly asked._

_ "A couple of times." Ashley said, sighing as she got into the car, turning the engine over. "Not enough to establish a pattern though, sadly." She glanced up, raising an eyebrow. "Are you coming?"_

_ Spencer scrambled to get out of her gaze and up into the car. "I, uh, of course. Should we call the other girls? I mean, they might know where she is, or they could help look."_

_ "No…this isn't your normal Hanna freak-out. She won't want to be crowded." Ashley said, suddenly reminding Spencer that there was still so little she knew about Hanna, from her childhood, from the year of Alison's disappearance, even beyond. Hanna was not an open book, worse than she was, and each time something like this happened, Spencer felt just a little bit inadequate. "Besides, I…I've seen how well you two are getting along recently, and…well, you're really good for her, Spencer. So good. I know your situation isn't always ideal, and I'm sure she helps you with that, but…I don't think you realize how much you've done for Hanna."_

_ Spencer couldn't help but smile, thankful that it was dark out, the lack of sunlight concealing the faint blush she knew was appearing on her cheeks. "I…well, thank you, Mrs. Marin." Spencer said. "That means a lot."_

_ "Please, dear God, Spencer, call me Ashley." Ashley sighed heavily. "I know your parents taught you to be polite or die, but…Ashley is just fine."_

_ "Ashley…" Spencer said slowly, taking a deep breath, leaning back in her seat. "Well, with all due respect…you don't know what Hanna's done for me either." Perhaps getting as close to the subject as possible without actually mentioning it would help keep Ashley off the trail. As far as she knew, Ashley knew nothing about Hanna's apparent bisexuality, and as far as anyone knew, she was on the straight and narrow in every possible way. "I mean…you know what my parents are like. I mean, I love them, and I understand they want what's best for me, but…it has the potential to be a little much. Being around Hanna…it reminds me that life isn't all about winning. And it's not about making my parents happy. Because…trying to do the impossible like that has devastating consequences…not that I haven't suffered any of those already or anything."_

_ Ashley sighed. "Spencer…if I had a child that was half as good as you, I would be thrilled." The redhead glanced over at her. "Don't get me wrong, I love Hanna., and I'm proud of her, and I'd do…just about anything for her, but you're…you're worth a lot more than the way your parents treat you, and if I could have a few words with them, I'd tell them that. They already have a perfect daughter. They don't need to keep pushing you."_

_ Spencer looked away as tears began to form in her eyes, ashamed at the outpouring of emotion that she was experiencing. "I…thank you, Ashley." She said softly, taking a deep breath, hating that she was getting emotional in front of her like this, especially about a subject as touchy as her family. "But I am far from actually being perfect."_

_ "The fact that you can admit that?" Spencer wasn't looking at her, but she could feel Ashley's expression, arched eyebrow and all. "It's a pretty damn good start."_

* * *

><p>Spencer's beauty routine took significantly less time than Hanna's. (Meaning it was only a swipe of mascara, some lipgloss, and dragging a brush through her hair to let it remain wavy, and that was that.) So after their shared shower, Spencer bounded downstairs, in a much better mood than…well, better than anything she'd felt in a long time. "Morning, Ashley." She said pleasantly to the redhead, who was pouring over the paper at the counter.<p>

"Spencer!" Ashley sounded surprised – but, after all, she hadn't returned home until long after Hanna and Spencer had retreated to Hanna's bedroom. (Thankfully so. They didn't make quite make it up the stairs in their first attempt.) "I didn't know you were here…it's been awhile since you've hung around, I'm happy to see you back…especially today."

Spencer took pause to pour herself a mug of coffee, leaning back against the counter. She didn't have any extra clothes with her, so she was in a Rosewood Sharks t-shirt and a pair of yoga pants Hanna had bought with the hope that they'd shrink to her height. (They didn't.) "Why is he here anyway?"

"Well, they ended up expelling Kate." Ashley said finally, an implied but unsaid 'good riddance' at the end of her sentence. "And Tom wanted to have a talk with Hanna about what this all means. So, it should go better than last time, but in case it doesn't…" Ashley glanced up at Spencer over the top edge of the newspaper. "I'm glad you're here."

Spencer took a second, inhaling the scent of her coffee deeply, before she nodded. "I'm glad I'm here too." She said honestly, feeling completely relaxed for the first time in weeks. Except for any action from A, or family drama, (and even that was debatable,) Spencer knew nothing could shake her from this. There weren't many times where she remembered feeling like everything was right with the world, or right with her life. She still knew that these things weren't true. The world was a messed up, scary place, and her life was even worse. But because Hanna was hers again, none of these things mattered. Not one bit.

"Hi mom." Hanna sounded significantly more cheery than she had before the shower as she strode into the kitchen, heels making hollow sounds on the tiled floor. "Give me some." She leaned over Spencer's coffee cup, taking a sip, before making a face. "I forgot. The only thing you mix into your coffee is ambition and the tears of children."

Spencer scoffed, as Ashley simultaneously snickered behind her paper. "Uncalled for." Spencer said, even though she was smiling.

"Well, I'm sorry we don't bleed caffeine like you do." Hanna teased, opening the fridge, leaning over slightly with a sly glance back at Spencer. "Some of us like a little bit of flavored creamer in our bloodstream."

Spencer couldn't help but smile, taking another large sip of her coffee. "Okay, okay, I concede." She said. "I like my coffee a little too strong. So what?"

Hanna glanced over as Ashley got up from the table, leaving the room momentarily before she moved over, swiftly kissing Spencer full on the mouth. "I'm kidding! You taste like coffee when I kiss you, and I love it." She whispered, quickly pulling back as her mother's footsteps approached.

"You're going to be late, and Hanna, your father is waiting." Ashley said, giving Hanna a quick hug. "Have a good day at school, girls." She said, pausing for a second before she hugged Spencer too, surprising her completely. She froze for a second before she hugged her back, completely unused to this sort of affection.

"Ah…thanks, Ashley." Spencer said, smiling after a moment. "I'm sure we will." She added, as Hanna linked arms with her, pulling her out the door.

"So when did you get so buddy buddy with my mom?" Hanna asked, glancing up at her.

Spencer shrugged, knowing Hanna wouldn't want to be reminded of that night. "I…a little while ago. She thinks I'm good for you or something."

Hanna smiled a little. "Well, you are." She said softly, reaching out, lightly brushing the back of her hand. "My mom is actually right about a lot of things, I'm lucky."

Spencer gazed down at her for a minute as they approached the car. "No…I am." She said, a smile instantly pulled from her at the way Hanna giggled and lit up before getting into the car with a glance back at her. This was the way things were supposed to be. Even with all of the tension in her family and the looming threats from A, and the uncertainty of the future to come…with Hanna, it almost like none of that mattered.

"I'm sorry…" Tom began, and when it wasn't followed by a 'but,' Spencer tuned out to the tune of her French book, going over that week's vocabulary, uninterested in what a blowhard like he had to say, even if it was atoning for his mistakes. She hadn't wanted to admit it to Hanna, but this would happen again, if she knew better. (And Spencer always knew better.) She could only hope she'd always be there to help pick up the pieces. The thought of Hanna being as broken as she was last time…well, it was frightening, at the very least.

Still, the thought of _always_ kept her preoccupied enough, and she was grinning like an idiot by the time they were on the sidewalk, and Tom was driving away. "What are you so happy about?" Hanna asked, looking up at her.

"…I'll tell you later." Spencer said, leaning down and kissing the top of her head, an innocent enough gesture. "Hey, go on ahead and find the girls, I have to ask Mrs. Montgomery about some make-up work." She grabbed into her hand for a brief moment. "I'll be right there, I promise."

Hanna nodded. "Alright." With a squeeze of her hand and a sly tint to her eyes as she gazed at her, she let go of her hand, leaving Spencer behind at the foot of the steps, watching her walk up. It was that moment that the desire to run up and kiss her occurred to her, with no regards to who was there or who would find out or who would be watching. Along with the desire came the thought…would it really be so bad?

But by the time she had come to her senses, books clutched innocently to her chest, Hanna was gone, disappeared into the school. Spencer glanced down at her folder, looking for the make-up essay she had to turn in, jumping when it was suddenly ripped out of her hands. "Hey!" She glanced up, and froze, feeling all the color drain from her face as she laid eyes on who had taken her paper.

"She's cute." Sage said, with a sly look in her eye. "No wonder she broke your heart."


	8. Magic Pt 2

Spencer had almost drowned on that trip to the lake – the day before the race and the best night's sleep of her life. Melissa had chosen not to swim, so it was just her and her father, and he had taken a break to swim laps, and Spencer – a determined eight year old – had tried to do the same thing. Some part of her knew that it couldn't work, she was much younger and much smaller than her father, but her ambition – as it would prove to do later on in her life several times – overrode her common sense and she swam out into the murky, cold depths of the lake.

She knew something was wrong almost instantly. The water got colder and colder as it swirled around her feet, like icy cold tendrils wrapping around her ankles, trying to drag her down and consume her. It wasn't long before her head was underwater, her entire body swallowed up by the cold, dark gullet of the lake and all of its dark power. She fought at its grip, she fought hard, screaming every time she was even remotely near the surface. Even with that effort though, she was sure she was dead. It was cold, and heavy, and so overwhelming that in those few moments, she couldn't remember anything but the water, and how the chill settled in her bones, weighing her down even more. Her chest burned like the fire was encased in ice and it was like a thousand tiny icicles were piercing every inch of her skin.

She had never felt more hopeless. More out of breath. More overwhelmed. Even after she was plucked from the water by her father and secured safely on land, wrapped in her quilt, she still had nightmares about it from time to time…the feeling of floundering around without anything to hold onto as the cold, crushing water poured down onto her, and into her. She remembered how it had nearly overtaken her, become her…she remembered how awful that had felt.

And if there was anything that could even come close to describing how Sage's sudden and surprising appearance made her feel…it was that.

"I…" Spencer couldn't get words out. She could hardly breathe, her lungs encased in the sudden, same cold fire that had nearly gotten her nine years beforehand. She stared at the tall blonde with the fedora pushed low over her darkly sly and triumphant eyes. There was so much to feel at once…so much to think about at once that she felt empty, and yet completely saturated. "What are you…" She managed to get out, before her breathlessness swallowed her words.

"Oh, me? I go here." Sage's tone lapsed to the condescending, and while normally Spencer would have responded with nothing short of terse rage, she had never felt smaller before in her life. "But since I'm not with the Ivy league crowd or one of your cute little foursome, I'm not surprised you didn't recognize me when we – "

"That's enough!" Spencer cut her off, her voice jumping up an octave with the rising levels of her panic. "Look, I…I thought we agreed that was just a one-off, and I'm sorry if that wasn't obvious to you, but I have a girlfriend. We worked it out, it's…it's okay. And I don't want her to know about…about us. Well, there isn't an us, but you know…and I don't want anyone here, in the school, to know about me and her, so I would consider it a personal favor if you just…kept quiet." Normally, Spencer would have very clearly and concisely laid out why exactly Sage should remain silent, and employ just enough subtle intimidation that Sage would listen – that _anyone_ would listen. But the fear of going back to that place, with Hanna hating her and being alone to let the cold come rushing in again…it was so terrifying that Spencer couldn't function at the very thought of it.

"Oh, little miss Goody Two Shoes class president is too afraid to admit that she got fucked by the class freak?" Sage asked, her tone matching her eyes in wickedness, Spencer's stomach lurching as she realized what little she could do. Sage literally didn't care what rhetoric she could spout, what clout she could hold over her head…if she wanted to talk, she was going to talk. And that was that.

"Look, I'm sure the fact that your reputation is…somewhat lacking makes you realize how important having a good one is." Spencer tried to reason with her, even with the sinking realization that it probably wouldn't work. "There are forces in my life that would prove to be very dangerous if I was…if I was forced to come out before they were resolved, or at least before I was ready." She swallowed hard. "Please, Sage…surely you understand on that level at least."

"Oh, don't worry, cupcake." Sage said with a smirk. "I'm just a person that likes to shake things up with a little…leverage." She said, with a gaze that reminded her of what exactly they'd done, and how completely stripped down (on multiple levels) that she'd seen her. A sudden rush of shame caused a dark flush to rise to her cheeks. "You don't piss me off, I don't rip open the closet door. Got it?"

Spencer nodded lamely, feeling sick to her stomach. Yet another person who was quite possibly insane with access to her secrets and therefore, control over her. She wasn't sure how much more of this type of torment she could take. "Of course." She said, her voice sticking in her throat.

"You know…I always had Hanna pegged as a swinger." She said, after a moment, leaning in a little too close for Spencer's comfort. "But you? All buttoned up in promise and swathed in the desperation for Mommy and Daddy's approval? I had no idea…although I guess I should have guessed." She backed off, looking over her shoulder at her as she walked away. "It's always the ones you'd least expect."

In that moment, Spencer could have sworn she was talking to Alison.

* * *

><p><em> "Where is she?" Spencer felt like she had asked this question a dozen times every minute, calling Hanna's cellphone constantly even though she knew it was pointless. "We've driven all over town, and she was wearing heels, it's not like she could have moved that fast."<em>

_ "Never underestimate how fast Hanna can run in heels." Ashley sighed, looking outwardly calm, her tone betraying her worry. "I'm checking everywhere she's ever gone before. We've got one last stop, and if she's not there, we'll call the police."_

_ "Like that'll help." Spencer scoffed before she could stop herself, realizing what she had said, glancing over at Ashley warily after a moment, who was staring back at her with a gaze that was equally as piercing as Hanna's. Like mother, like daughter, she supposed._

_ "Hanna told you about…that." Ashley said quietly. It wasn't a question – after all, there was little ground for Spencer to backpedal on with a comment like that._

_ "…yeah." Spencer sighed finally, swallowing hard. "I…I'm not going to tell anyone, don't worry. I mean…all my parents do is throw money at my problems. You…"_

_ "Throw myself?" Ashley finished for her._

_ "Oh God, no." Spencer said instantly, mortified, her stomach actually in knots as she stared at Ashley. "That's not what I…no."_

_ "Relax." Ashley said after a beat. "I was kidding. Your parents don't do that a lot, do they?" Spencer shook her head and Ashley sighed. "I could tell. You take everything so seriously. I mean…in the end, you just have to take life with a grain of salt. Taking everything so seriously…well, you're just a little young to be this uptight, Spencer. If I may say so. Dammit." She swore, as rain began to drip onto the windshield, the sudden sound of it startling Spencer, who had been contemplating what Ashley had said._

_ "Well, at least we know she's somewhere covered." Ashley said, with a bit of a laugh, as if she was trying to keep herself light and calm rather than worrying too much – Spencer, on the other hand, could not help but show and feel her worry, her hands wringing, her stomach tied in knots._

_ "Yeah." The brunette said nervously. "She'd rather die than get freshly conditioned hair wet." Spencer shrugged. "Anyway, I…I don't know…I think there are things we have to take seriously." She said, glancing down at her lap, folding and unfolding her hands, playing with the ring she was wearing._

_ "I'm not saying there aren't." Ashley replied, no longer looking at Spencer, focusing on the road beyond the rain. "But a lot of people…overreact. To a lot of things. In the end, we just need to let them be. Maybe you'll get it when you're older, Spencer, but – "_

_ "Frankly, Ashley, I think I'm mature enough to get it now." Spencer said, more bitingly than she meant. "I've almost died. I've been reading at a college level since the eighth grade. Mentally, I'm thirty. And that's not an estimate, someone actually tested that for me. I get it, Ashley. Really. You might want to think I'm just some silly little girl, but I'm not. I never have been. I understand things that are serious. Like the police thing, and what happened with Ian, and Hanna's borderline eating disorder – " It popped out of her mouth with no warning, it hadn't even been on her head. That had been on the list of things she'd filed away to never tell anyone about, for more reasons than one. So she wasn't sure how it had come up, to be perfectly honest, and with Hanna's mom of all people. And if she hadn't been absolutely horrorstruck by what she had just done, she would have been utterly confused._

_ Ashley literally slammed on the breaks. The wheels squealed on the damp road, and the redhead looked sharply over at Spencer, who flinched at the intensity of her expression. "What?" She asked shortly, just staring at Spencer, shocked, angered, and beyond that, perhaps a little bit devastated._

_ "I…" Hanna was going to murder her. Or break up with her. Or both. But she couldn't backpedal now. She couldn't take back what she had said, or try to cover it up. She had no other choice but to tell her, and hope beyond hope that it wouldn't get in the way. "A couple of years back, before…before Alison died, Hanna…well, Ali….Ali caught her after a binge, and talked her into…getting rid of it." Spencer shuddered as she recalled the tearful conversation she'd had with Hanna after catching her with her fingers down her throat. (After a fight with her father, no less.) "She doesn't…it's not like she does it much anymore, or anything, and it's not like it's full blown, but…God, I shouldn't have told you that."_

_ "No, Spencer…you did the right thing." Ashley answered, and although Spencer could see that in the long run, Ashley was probably right, the knots in her stomach and the sinking feeling in her chest told her the exact opposite._

* * *

><p>"…sorry for lying to you guys, it's not that we don't trust you or anything, because we <em>do,<em> it's just that we were scared about…you know. And we weren't even really sure what it was or anything, but now we are, and we've gotten over our rough patch, and it's all…perfect. Just, you know, don't tell anyone. That could be bad." Spencer listened as she quietly stepped up behind the three girls, who were clustered together by Hanna's locker. The uneasy feeling still slid around her stomach, but she managed to fight off the expression forcing a smile as she worked her way into the small group.

"Couldn't wait for me to start?" She asked, arching an eyebrow. While this was the least of her problems at the moment, she had still wanted to be part of the conversation. It was something they had discussed the night before, when they were sleepy but too afraid to fall asleep and miss a moment of the other's company. What was the point in hiding it from Emily and Aria when they both already knew?

"Oh, hi!" Hanna brightened up instantly, and that put Spencer a little at ease. It wasn't like she'd _cheated_ on her any way…maybe she'd understand. (Of course, in the depths of her mind, she knew this wasn't the case. But she could hope, right?) "Sorry…I didn't think you'd be back from Mrs. Montgomery's on time." She bit her lower lip, and that was enough of a distraction for Spencer.

"I forgive you." Spencer said, taking a deep breath, trying to quell her nerves, glancing over as Aria and Emily shared a knowing look. "Do you two have anything to say?" She asked.

"Oh no, no…" Aria said, with a mischievous smile. "Just…for two people that don't want anyone to know you're dating, you're…kind of obvious. Even Emily and her non-existent gaydar gets it."

"Hey!" Emily said, pretending to be hurt but not being very effective with the grin she was currently wearing. "Anyway…we're really happy for you guys. Seriously." She glanced up as the first warning bell rang.

Spencer sighed. "Han, I'm going to hit up the coffee cart, the stuff your mother makes is weak." She said, ignoring the subsequent, playful eyeroll. "Want me to get you something?"

"No, I promised Emily I'd go with her to talk to the physics teacher – she has to miss lab for a swim meet, and she needs back-up." Both Hanna and Emily winced at the mention of the apparently strict teacher. "But I'll see you later." She reached forward and squeezed her hand, before taking hold of Emily's arm and following her down the hallway.

"So, why don't you look happier?" Spencer didn't realize she'd been staring after Hanna until Aria's voice startled her. "Spence, when you walked over, you looked like you saw a ghost. By all accounts, you have every reason to be happy…so what's up?"

This was one of those times that Spencer regretted becoming so close to Aria – well, not regret it. She could never regret that friendship…that closeness, that feeling of safety. There was no regret, only dislike for the fact that she had become so close to someone who could read her so well. Sometimes, Aria saw things about her that even Hanna couldn't. And while she welcomed the care Aria obviously had for her…it was frightening to have someone know her so well.

Just as she was about to try and assure her that, no, everything was fine and she couldn't be happier, she stumbled as someone brushed roughly past her. Glancing back with a sharp word on her lips, her anger died instantly, slowly being replaced with fear as she locked eyes with Sage, tearing them away as they turned the corner.

"Who the hell was that?" Aria asked, glancing back. "Spencer, she looked at you like she wanted to eat you, what's going on?"

"I…" Spencer twisted the strap of her messenger bag nervously. "I think I'm in trouble, Aria." She finally said, taking a deep breath. For a second, she had hoped that it would make her feel better, to come clean about all that had transpired. But instead of the weight being lifted from her shoulders like she'd hoped, it only flooded her with more shame over how low she'd gotten.

"What more trouble could you _possibly_ be in?" Aria asked, eyes narrowed slightly. She had a point. After all they'd been through, how could she have possibly stumbled upon more problems?

"Can we not?" Spencer asked, sighing, slumping down at a table in the courtyard, resting her forehead against the table. She sighed heavily, hesitating before speaking. "It was…last Friday. I had just found about the whole…Hanna and Caleb mess, and I was just…so distraught, I drove to Philadelphia and I…went to this gay bar." She added the last part as a whisper, looking up at Aria cautiously. Her expression was concerned but otherwise blank, so she continued. "I still have that fake ID Ali gave me, so I use that and got…spectacularly drunk, and one thing led to another…that girl we just passed and I…we hooked up in the bathroom, oh my God, I am such a _whore_." She buried her face in her hands.

"Hey…" She felt Aria's hand on her shoulder prompting her to look up. "You're not a whore. Okay? You were hurting, and maybe you didn't make the best choice, but everyone's entitled to that. It's not like you cheated on Hanna any way. What's the big deal?"

Spencer sighed. "The big deal, Aria, is that the chick I hooked up is _crazy._ Literally insane. She waltzed right up to me in broad daylight and is basically holding the whole thing over me. It's like she's got some grade-school vendetta against me, and she's just enjoying watching me squirm, and I…" Spencer trailed off, trying to breathe, and not burst into tears in front of Aria and half the school.

"Sounds like she enjoyed watching you squirm in more than one way." Aria said, raising her eyebrows, recoiling as Spencer looked up at her. "Right, not helping, sorry."

"I'm just going to get my coffee and go." Spencer sighed finally, her mood completely dashed. "I have to go to AP Government anyway, I don't want to be late." She got up, ignoring Aria as she moved behind her, paying for a large black coffee, needing all the bitterness and caffeine to propel her through what was shaping up to be an increasingly terrible day. "Thank you." She said softly, taking the cup from the cashier, turning around slowly as she sipped at it.

And promptly letting the cup slip out of her hands to the ground, not even caring as the hot coffee splashed across her feet. She gasped, gripping Aria's arm as she laid eyes on Hanna walking alongside none other than Sage, only pausing in their conversation to glance over at Spencer, a challenge in her eyes.

* * *

><p><em>"Hanna!" Spencer cupped her hands around her mouth as she called for her. The rest of the car ride had been painfully silent, the air thick with awkward tension as Ashley worried and Spencer sulked. Their only words had been spoken when they'd arrived at a small park about twenty minutes away from the Marin's house, and Ashley had told her to search the west half of the park, while she took the east. Spencer didn't have to work very hard to calm her nerves over what she'd accidentally revealed to Ashley, with her nerves over Hanna, increasingly panicking more as she didn't turn up. "Hanna?!"<em>

_ Spencer sank down onto a picnic bench for a moment, trying to collect herself, feeling all sorts of out of place. Her heart wasn't racing, but it felt like it was skipping beats or it was out of rhythm, and her breathing came in short gasps every once in a while. Her skin felt prickly and her head ached and her mouth was dry and her throat burned. And while she was sure this was mostly due to the fact that her girlfriend was missing, the soft but derisive echo playing her mind of 'What have you done?' indicated that it was much more than that._

_ "Get a grip, Spencer." She whispered to herself, folding her arms tightly around her chest as she tried to pull herself together. She couldn't fall apart now, not when Hanna needed her most. She could think about her unintended betrayal later – as she would inevitably have to. Not now. Not when she was in danger of losing Hanna in more ways than one. _

_ She buried her face in her hands, inhaling deeply, only looking up as she heard a distant voice. The call had ended almost as soon as it began, and Spencer was left alone with the sound of her erratic heartbeats until it sounded again. "Spencer!" It was Ashley. She bolted upright and took off towards the sound, thankful for her field hockey training, crossing the park in under a minute to find Hanna curled up in Ashley's arms, face buried in her chest._

_ "Hanna!" Spencer gasped, and the smaller girl turned out of Ashley's arms, staring rather unfocusedly at her for a long moment, before taking the few unsteady steps towards her, falling against her. Spencer instantly wrapped her arms tightly around the blonde, stroking her hair as Hanna buried her face in her shoulder, skin wet with tears. "Shh…shh, you're okay."_

_ Hanna looked up at her, and Spencer swore if she hadn't turned away at the exact moment that she did, Hanna would have kissed her right then and there. "Girls, let's head home, come on." Spencer looked up as Ashley spoke gently._

_ "I've got it." Spencer replied quietly, peeling Hanna off of her for a second. "I'll walk her home, it's not that far…please?" She held eye contact with Ashley steadily, and eventually the redhead looked away, sighing._

_ "Alright, but come straight home, okay?" She said, with a pointed look at Spencer, who nodded. "I'll see you there."_

_ Both Spencer and Hanna were silent as Ashley got in the car and drove away. As soon as the crystalline light of the headlights disappeared, leaving them in near total darkness, Hanna's lips suddenly crashed against Spencer's. She inhaled sharply surprised by the kiss. Hanna tasted like lipstick and alcohol, which she supposed was the reason for the unfocused demeanor she'd been wearing since she'd arrived there. It was a different kind of kiss, not magical at all, but insistent, needy and forceful, something she didn't really ever see in Hanna, or feel in her kiss. So surprised was she that she found herself pressed back against a picnic table after only a matter of minutes, drawn into the kiss only by how unprepared she was. "Hanna…Hanna, stop." She gasped turning away from the kiss, from Hanna's wandering hands._

_ "Come on, Spencer." Hanna got out between heavy breaths, her voice lapsing to needy as she curled her fingers into the hooded sweatshirt Spencer had thrown on before rushing out of Ashley's house. The rain was now steadily drumming on the tin roof of the pavilion Hanna had pushed her into. "Right here, come on Spencer. I want you." She stood on tiptoe, heels long gone apparently, as she whispered, her lips brushing against her ear. She started trying to clumsily undo the buttons of Spencer's shirt, exposed beneath the open sweatshirt. "Please…"_

_ But as hard as she was to resist normally, this time Spencer had no trouble slapping her hands away. "Hanna, stop." Spencer said firmly, holding her squarely by the shoulders as she peeled her off of herself. "You're drunk and upset, and for good reason. I get that you want to feel better, but this isn't the way to do it." Spencer pulled the sleeve of her sweatshirt down over her hand, using it to wipe the mascara stained tear tracks that were left behind on Hanna's cheek. "Babydoll, talk to me…what happened?"_

_ Hanna glanced down, wrapping her arms around herself as she shuddered from the cold, barely glancing up as Spencer took off her sweatshirt and draped it around her shivering frame. And then, with the biggest, reddest eyes, Spencer had ever seen on her, and the softest, most broken tone of voice Spencer had ever heard, Hanna looked up at her. "How could you want me?"_

_ "We've been over this." Spencer said, taking her face in both hands, making Hanna look at her. "You're funny, and you're gorgeous, and you make me feel like no one has ever made me feel before in my life. 'How could I want you?' Hanna…how could I _not _want you?"_

_ "I just…" Hanna tore away from her, stepping out into the rain, stumbling a bit, slipping in the wet grass. "I could be better, you know! I could be better than this, I could! If I try hard enough…Spencer, I could be better for you, you deserve so much better…" Hanna fell to her knees, and Spencer rushed up behind her, just managing to scoop her hair back before she threw up._

_ "Shh…" Spencer rubbed her back, her heart breaking as she felt Hanna's shoulders began to shake from sobbing, pulling her back against her, smoothing her hair out of her face, eventually just wrapping her arms around her chest, holding her, burying her face in her neck. "I want you just the way that you are, Hanna. Okay? You don't have to be better for me. Or for your dad. Or for anyone else. If you want to change, change for you. And only for you. Okay?"_

_ Hanna sniffed, leaning back against Spencer. "Okay." She finally whispered, turning her face against Spencer's chest. "Can we go home now? It's raining." She asked, sounding almost sleepy._

_ Spencer sighed, kissing the top of her head. She wasn't sure if she believed her, but it was at least a start. "Yeah, babydoll, of course._

* * *

><p>Spencer didn't hear a word her AP Government student teacher had to say. Not a one. Her notebook paper was blank except for the date, and a few angry scribbles when her thoughts strayed too much towards Sage and what she would do to her if she had the chance. (It involved choking and lots of blood. Not pretty thoughts. But then, Spencer's thoughts were rarely pretty anymore.) But, mostly, she had sat there, alternating between trying not to just burst into tears from how anxious she was, and thinking of ways to get herself out of this situation. (There weren't any.)<p>

"Spencer!" She wasn't sure how long Ms. Laughlin had been saying her name, but she jerked up suddenly to find her perched on the desk in front of her, staring at her intently with one eyebrow arched. She paused a minute to push her dark, straight hair out of her face."Are you alright, girl? You look like you're tweaking out."

That was what Spencer both liked and disliked about Ms. Laughlin – who often encouraged her charges to call her by her first name, Kyle. Only five years older than the oldest of her students, she was uniquely in tune with them, having not forgotten high school. On days like that day though, it was definitely a problem. "I…" Spencer was cut off as the bell rang. "I have to go, I have English." She tried to gather up her completely blank lecture notes without attracting too much attention, already feeling weirded out by how intently Kyle's eyes were locked on her. "Really, I…"

Kyle placed a hand on her arm. "I'll write you a pass. Now sit." She pointed down at the chair. "Unless you want me to drag your ass to the guidance counselor." She chuckled a bit at the expression on Spencer's face. "Yeah, exactly. She was old and grumpy when _I _was a freshman here. Talk to me? I promise I won't just hand you a bunch of pamphlets and pat you on the head." Miss Laughlin – well, Kyle, Spencer supposed – was much different from the other teachers she had experienced here at Rosewood High. Even if she was technically only a student teacher, the regular AP government teacher had decided that this was his cue to take the entire three months off, showing up occasionally to observe her. (Which mostly entailed him snoring in the back of the classroom, while Kyle did things that would intentionally piss him off, had he been awake.) She was engaging and funny, for someone teaching such a dry subject, and even Spencer had to admit, her teaching style, while informal, wasn't entirely intolerable. (Also, she was quite pretty.)

"I…" Spencer hesitated, before setting her bag down, sliding back into the desk. This wouldn't be the first time she had opened up to Kyle, and actually, it was the second in as many weeks. "You remember what I told you?" She asked. "About my relationship?" Kyle nodded, watching her intently, in that unnerving but oddly comforting way. "Well…the reason I missed all of those days was because we broke up. But we're back together, I mean, we worked it all out." She explained, taking a deep breath. "But while we were broken up, I did something really stupid…"

"You mean you did _someone_?" Kyle asked. Spencer blanched at her boldness, unable to speak for the moment. "Ah, I see. Well, we've all been there." Kyle reached out and touched her arm again, and for some inexplicable reason, Spencer felt less tense, even if for only a second. "And it's…sticky and awkward and it can cause some serious problems. I'm not going to lie. But…you didn't cheat, first of all. You didn't do anything wrong. You were hurting. You're human, and we do…very human things when we're hurting."

"Well, true." Spencer sighed, resting her chin in her hands. "But I'm afraid they won't see it that way. Plus…I met this…person…at a club." She struggled with her pronouns, terrified of revealing herself to yet another person. "And I hooked up with them, yeah, whatever…but it turns out they go here, and they're crazy, and now they're blackmailing me, and – "

"Breathe, Spencer, you're turning blue." Kyle stopped her, tapping the underside of her chin. "Keep it up, come on. You're a smart, strong girl, Spencer. I've known that since I first laid eyes on you. And if someone is intimidating you, well, intimidate them back. Intimidate the hell out of them. I know you can. Most blackmailers blackmail to avoid confrontation. So give them the opposite of what they want and maybe they'll back off. Show them that they don't own you...whoever they may be." Kyle said, resting her hands on her demurely folded legs.

Spencer took a deep breath. "You're right." She said softly – because she was. Sage had caught her by surprise and had thus gained the upper hand. But she could do it right back to her. In fact, it was one of the things she was good at. "And if I don't do it now, it'll only get worse. So, if you'll excuse me…"

"Here, just take the pass." Kyle handed her one of the tiny pink slips of paper. "And..Spencer, you know if you ever need anything, I'm here for another few weeks, and then I…hope to be teaching here sooner or later. Until then, I'd be happy to give you my e-mail. You know…if you need another impromptu therapy session."

"…I'd like that." Spencer nodded, moving towards the door. As much as she didn't like to admit it, the woman put her at ease with little effort, and she supposed that was something she needed. "Thank you…for everything." She said, glancing over her shoulder as she paused at the door.

Kyle shrugged. "No problem. I'd like to think that even if I do stop being your teacher when the test or the lecture's over…I don't stop being your friend. Or at least, I don't stop being there when you need someone."

"I…" Spencer saw a blonde flash go by and disappear into the bathroom, and she knew exactly who it was. "I just saw them, so I have to go…but you're right. You don't. So thank you." Before Kyle could say another word, Spencer stalked determinedly towards the bedroom, slamming the door open, letting her bag hit the floor. "Sage, we need to talk!"

The blonde whipped around, shock only residing on her features for a moment before she smirked, the sly, devilish look making Spencer want to shudder. "You're not exactly playing by the rules, Spencer. Something I already knew you didn't do, but still, after our little chat this morning, I would have thought…"

"Well, you thought wrong." Spencer snapped, pausing only to take a quick peek at the bottom of the stalls to make sure they were alone, before looking back up at Sage, backing her into a corner. "I am done with your sick little game, Sage. Done. You mean nothing to me. You were a good drunk fuck, and that's all you'll ever be. I tried to be nice to you, I really did, but the second that you used what happened against me, you ruined any chance of me ever attempting that again. I'm not going to cower in the corner anymore." The pent up years of frustration with her family, anger at A, and worry over the state of her relationship with Hanna poured into the rant, making it more forceful than she could have ever imagined. Sage was actually backed into the corner, staring at her. "You want to tell Hanna? You go ahead? Because you know what? She fucking loves me. And you know what? She's not going believe you over me? Who would ever believe _you_ over _me_? Who the hell would believe we ever hooked up?"

Spencer never got her answer, for the second she stopped talking, Sage quietly pointed over her shoulder. Confused for a split second, Spencer eventually turned and looked, completely unprepared to see Hanna standing in the bathroom door, staring at the two of them, expression nothing short of devastated.

* * *

><p><em>Piano was the one thing Spencer had attempted in her childhood, only to quit later on. Her teacher had been mean, even by her parents standards, and they weren't paying their hard earned money for their daughter to be browbeat – at least, not without any discernible results. But the black baby grand still sat in the den – it looked good, after all, and maybe they'd have a use for it someday. And every once in a while, despite the flashbacks of a house stuffed to the brim with chintz furniture and smelling of cats, Spencer still got the urge to play. Mostly just random, unskilled melodies, she hadn't taken the lessons very long, but the logic behind music was soothing, especially on her most difficult days.<em>

_ It was at the piano she found herself the night following Hanna and Tom's fight. She hadn't heard from Hanna all day, and when she went to check on her, she found the curtains drawn and the doors locked tight – even though Ashley's car was in the driveway. Texts and calls went unanswered, and Spencer knew what was happening. What she didn't know was what it meant for her, or their relationship. That uncertainty was maddening, especially when she knew the chance of a negative outcome was far greater. So she plucked the keys, trying to make sense with the music, seeing as her own life didn't make much sense anymore. _

_ "Spencer?" Even though Melissa's voice was quiet, Spencer still jumped, turning around too look at her older sister. "What are you, the Phantom of the Opera? Turn on some lights."_

_ "I have a headache." Spencer sighed, pressing her fingers to her temples, which were admittedly aching. Probably from how many times she'd turned the past day and a half over in her mind. _

_ "Then why are you playing music?" Melissa countered._

_ "Because it makes sense." Spencer answered. "Every melody has a logical conclusion…I mean, yes, there's dissonance, but that's up to the orchestrator…and I don't like dissonance." She could feel the questions beginning to rise in Melissa without even looking at her. "Why are you here?"_

_ "Taylor woke up screaming and I didn't have any formula in the barn." Melissa said. "She's sleeping in the living room now, although I guess I'll be heading back soon. But then I heard the piano, and I wanted to make sure the house wasn't haunted…turns out it was just you." Melissa sighed. "Is everything alright?"_

_ "And you care…because?" Spencer asked, raising her eyebrows as she kept her gaze focused on the keys. _

_ "Because I want Taylor to see us as family…as sisters. Not enemies." Spencer paused, almost turning around as she heard Melissa approach the door. "If you need me, you know where to find me." Spencer almost spoke, but at that moment, her phone vibrated in the specific pattern she had set for Hanna. Forgetting all about her sister's presence there, she glanced down at her phone, frantically opening the text, her nails clicking against the touch screen. It simply told her to meet her on the front porch, and Spencer did just that, pausing only to make sure Melissa had actually returned to the barn before opening the front door._

_ "Hanna, where the hell have you been?" Spencer asked, taking in the sight of her, hair unstyled, make-up nonexistent, wrapped in the hoodie, she'd left in her possession the night before. Oh no… "I've been trying to talk to you all day, what's going on?"_

_ "Oh, I think you know exactly what's going on." Hanna deadpanned, her tone alone making Spencer's stomach sink and her train of thought come to a crashing halt. But before she could get a word out in her own defense, Hanna cut her off. "How could you, Spencer?" She didn't sound sad, she sounded angry. Angrier than she'd ever heard her, at least in her own context. "I told you that in…in confidence. You promised you wouldn't say a word, and you go and blab to my _mother_ of all people? What the hell is wrong with you?"_

_ "Hanna…" Spencer gasped, feeling like the air had been knocked out of her by some invisible punch to the stomach. "It was an accident. I didn't mean to tell her. We were…talking, and I was worried about you, and I couldn't…it just popped out, and I am so sorry, I – "_

_ "You're sorry?" Hanna snapped, and the level of her ferocity was so sky high that Spencer actually took a step back. "My mother looks at me like I'm an insect on a petri dish, and she's talking about all these therapies that I know we can't afford, and she wants to talk to my dad, and I just…I didn't need this now, of all times this could happen. I don't need another person watching my every move, and you know that! You know that this isn't what I need, but you go ahead and do it anyway!"_

_ "Are you talking about A?" Spencer asked, still keeping her distance. "It's not the same thing, Hanna. Your mom – "_

_ "Isn't it?" Hanna cut her off once again, and Spencer fell silent, shocked by how passionate, how vehement she was in her anger. "Isn't it exactly the same thing? Someone who has power over me, using my secrets to get me to do what they want? Forcing me to do things that I don't want to do? I really don't get how _you _of all people don't get it!"_

_ "Hanna, your mother wants to help you and so do I!" Spencer said. "It's completely different, and the fact that you can't distinguish between your mother putting you in therapy, and someone _stalking_ and _torturing_ us proves that you need it." Spencer swallowed hard, trying to calm herself down. She had stepped over her boundaries, she knew that…but now she was starting to realize that it might not have been a bad thing. "I didn't mean to tell her, Hanna, I really didn't, but would it really be so bad to get some help? Feel normal again?"_

_ "I don't even know what 'normal' is anymore!" Hanna said, throwing her arms out, tears brimming in her eyes, likely from a whole host of emotions. "I'm just trying to survive right now, and you can't even let me do that without interfering. I am not a child, Spencer! Let me take care of myself."_

_ "But I'm just – "_

_ "I swear to God, if you say you were 'just trying to help' one more time, I will slap the shit out of you." Hanna grumbled._

_ "But I'm supposed to help you." Spencer said, hardly believing what she was hearing. In part she knew that she really would never be able to understand until she'd been in Hanna's shoes…but it was still frustrating. "I'm your – "_

_ "Think long and hard about how you're going to finish that sentence, Spencer." Hanna cut her off, stepping down the steps to the porch, staring at Spencer with such an icy cold vehemence in her eyes that the brunette actually shuddered. "Because, right now? You're not my anything."_

* * *

><p>"Hanna…" Spencer gasped, not even noticing as Sage slipped quietly around her. It only caught her attention as Hanna grabbed Sage's wrist, holding her in place – although with a glare like Hanna was giving her, she probably didn't even need to hold her there. It was so icy and firm and cool that it actually made Spencer shiver, even though it wasn't directed at her. (Although, it was a pretty terrifying sight to see, and probably a sign of things to come in her very near future.)<p>

For a moment, Spencer thought Sage was going to take the place of Jenna in an all-new, literal smack down. But after a long, frigidly tense moment, Hanna released her. (Meanwhile, Spencer released a breath she didn't know she had been holding.)And with another pointed stare that clearly said 'Get out of my sight, bitch,' Sage quietly slunk out of the bathroom. For a moment, Spencer felt a tiny rush of glee in the pit of her stomach, watching Sage slink out like a wounded animal that had lost a fight.

But only for a moment.

Spencer flinched as Hanna looked at her, because there was more than just the icy glare lying in her eyes. There was pain. There was hurt. There were all the things she swore she'd never be the cause of for Hanna – and yet, they were still there, and it was all because of her. "Hanna, you've…you've got to let me explain." She said, her throat dry, her voice catching more than once. The thought of losing her yet again was paralyzing and terrifying, and she almost couldn't get the words out. She couldn't go through that again, she just couldn't. She wasn't sure she'd survive it again – in fact, she knew she couldn't survive the heartbreak of completely and utterly losing Hanna for the second time. "Please, Hanna…"

"Why should I?" Hanna's voice was cold and solid with hurt, and thick with tears Spencer instantly hated herself for, even though they hadn't been shed yet. "You…I can't even look at you right now." She averted her eyes, which only briefly alleviated Spencer's growing inner turmoil.

"I didn't cheat on you, Hanna." Spencer gasped, arms wrapped around her ribcage, which was actually beginning to hurt from how truly frightened she was. "I didn't, I swear to God. I would never, ever do that to you. I love you, Hanna. Remember? I love you. And I would never put you through that."

"Then what the hell was all that about?" Hanna asked, showing no signs of thawing. "You hooked up with that…that skank? I heard everything, Spencer, and believe it or not, I'm not stupid. So fuck you for thinking you can argue your way out of this, and fuck you for making me think that you actually cared!"

Spencer flinched at every single word Hanna was throwing at her, knowing she deserved every one of them for lying to her about it. "It happened after we broke up, Hanna." Spencer said, trying to stay calm. "After you told me about…about A, what they did, I…I just lost it. I went to that bar you showed me that one time, with that fake ID that Ali gave me, and I was trashed. She was nice, I was lonely, it happened. But it didn't mean anything to me, Hanna, I swear to God." Spencer closed her eyes for a moment, taking deep breaths trying to calm herself. If she could just stay calm, and tell it like it was, maybe she'd listen. "She will never mean anything to me, she tried to blackmail me with it. I don't care about her, Hanna, I care about you, and I love you. So much. And I'm sorry I didn't tell you, I was just…I was scared of losing you. I can't do it again, Hanna…I just can't."

"Spencer…" Hanna trailed off, her voice more fluid, less thick, and Spencer felt her panic, her dread, her fear begin to melt away a little bit. There was hope. There was a chance. "You _should_ have told me. This is kind of the last way I'd ever want to find out about something like this. And how do I know you're not keeping other things from me?"

Spencer's mind drifted towards her kiss with Toby, but for some reason, she didn't say a word. She didn't know why…it just wouldn't come out. "You just have to give me a chance, Hanna." She said softly. "I mean…you've kept some pretty big things from me too. I…I just want to be with you, Hanna, that's all I want. No more drama. No more A. No more people getting in the way, and fucking things up for us. I want you. Nothing else."

"I…" Hanna's expression softened. "That's all I want too, Spencer, I – " Hanna cut off as her phone vibrated, digging it out of her purse.

Spencer sensed something bad the moment she heard the vibration from across the bathroom. "Hanna, don't answer that, come on." She said softly. "I just want to talk, please."

"One second, I've been waiting for this really important text, I – " Hanna cut off, her expression going blank as she stared at the phone. Not even crashing or falling, just…blank. And Spencer knew exactly what it was before Hanna turned the phone around to show her. The crystalline screen displayed a perfect, in depth, in color picture of her and Toby, caught in a liplock, her back pressed against her car, his hands at her waist, pulling her closer in a way that suggested the kiss was anything but friendly.

"Hanna…" Spencer's voice shook slightly. "Let me…let me explain."

"I think I've heard that phrase enough for one day." Hanna didn't seem distraught at all. Just…empty. Cold. Devoid of anything. Spencer would have preferred devastation, crying, screaming. It meant she still cared. It meant there was a chance, it meant there was something to hold onto. But there wasn't anything. It was just Hanna, armed with a picture of her and her ex-boyfriend, leaving her with little room to explain, and nothing to hope for. "You had every opportunity to tell me about this, Spencer. I mean…I get what happened with that skank, I guess. But not this. This is someone that you loved before me. This is someone that has feelings for you. And you chose not to tell me." Hanna's voice remained smooth and cold, without any trace of anger or sadness. "That…that's cheating, Spencer. No matter when it happened. And…" Hanna shook her head, looking up at her. "I can't do this." She said quietly, shuffling out of the restroom without another word.

All of the pleading and crying stayed in Spencer's head. She just stood there, staring at the empty doorway, feeling…nothing. Nothing but the growing void as the remnants of that morning's magic fled her system.

In all of the stupid bliss she'd been caught up in, Spencer had forgotten that if there was magic, there was almost always black magic too.

* * *

><p>AN: -ducks from the things being thrown at me- All I can say is what I've been saying for several chapters now: have faith. I have a masterplan. I'm sorry for the pain, seriously. (And hey look a regular update. You might even get another chapter next week.) The story's coming to a close, there's only three more chapters, including the epilogue, which may or may not include a jump into the future. As always, thank you for reading, lovelies! I'm so grateful for all of you, even if you do end up hating me a little bit.


	9. Starved

"_Hey, it's Hanna! Either I'm busy at the new sample sale, or my mom took my phone again. Either way, I'll have to get back to you later, so leave a message! Love ya!"_

_ "It's Spencer again…please, can't we just talk? It's been two days, and I miss you. I can only say 'I'm sorry' so many times, but…well, I'm sorry. Please pick up. This is crazy…Hanna, please."_

"_Hey, it's Hanna! Either I'm busy at the new sample sale, or my mom took my phone again. Either way, I'll have to get back to you later, so leave a message! Love ya!"_

_ "I guess I don't have to tell you who it is by now. Hanna…four days, and not a word? Come on. I really need to talk to you…please. I love you. Don't do this. I…am so sick of saying I'm sorry, but I'll say it as many times as I have to, as long as I'm saying it to your face and not to your voicemail! Please, Hanna, just give me a call."_

"_Hey, it's Hanna! Either I'm busy at the new sample sale, or my mom took my phone again. Either way, I'll have to get back to you later, so leave a message. Unless you're Spencer, in which case, back the hell off." _

_ "….really Hanna?"_

"_The number you are trying to reach has a voicemail box that is already full. Please try again at a later time."_

_"Please, just...call me." Spencer said to Hanna's voicemail for what felt like the hundredth time, even if it was futile, settling back against the bench outside the main office, taking a deep breath. She could do this. She could get through this, through Hanna's glacial anger. It would be a hard trek, but one that was worth it, because her girlfriend would be waiting for her at the end of it. Things would go back to normal, to the way they were supposed to be._

_Oh for the love of God, who was she kidding? She leaned forward, burying her hands in her face, struggling not to burst into tears. Tthere was no denying it, she had beyond royally fucked up, and even if it had been an accident or that she'd had good intentions, Hanna had a right to be angry with her. She even had a right to not take her back, if they had actually broken up, which was something Spencer wasn't sure of._

_All of it came upon her like a firestorm, all at once. All of the guilt and the confusion and the pain of simply being without her, it all came rushing at her, crashing down around her until she was surrounded by it, consumed by it. A sob tore from her throat unexpectedly and another snuck out and and another until she had no resistance against them and she was suddenly having a full blown meltdown right there in the hallway where anyone could see._

_"Spencer?" She was shocked by the hand on her shoulder and jumped up, wiping the tears from her eyes frantically before she even knew who it was. When her vision finally went somewhat clear, she was a little shocked - and a little embarrassed - to see her new AP Government student teacher standing above her, with a look of intense concern etched on her features._

_"Miss Laughlin!" She gasped, wiping at her eyes again to remove any traces of the eye make-up she'd half-heartedly put on that morning, with the sinking feeling that it might get ruined. "I'm really sorry, I just..." She trailed off, closing her mouth, shaking her head like a stubborn child. Even just contemplating the idea of discussing it with someone made it all come rushing in again, except two fold this time. She hated getting emotional in front of her friends...let alone authority figures and perfect strangers. Kyle Laughlin was a combination of the two, which only made it worse._

_"First off., call me Kyle." She started, as Spencer finally looked up at her. This was the first time she'd been in close proximity with the woman, and she was startled to realize how young she really was. She couldn't have been more than twenty two, her average height making her almost indistinguishable from the students she was learning to teach. Her dark hair was pin straight, pulled into a ponytail with some strands falling in her face, her eyes as dark as her hair, peering at her gently. (Though this did little to put her at ease.) "I'm not really into all of that formal Ms. and Mr. bullshit, okay? Second of all, Spencer, I'm your teacher." She sighed. "For all intensive purposes, anyway. And you're my student, and it is my job to help you, whether you're having issues in class or...a hysterical meltdown in front of the main office."_

_"It's nothing." Spencer said quickly, shaking her head, not even sure where to begin with the situation, even if she did want to talk about it with her. "Really...there's nothing you can do." This was the truth, as far as Spencer knew. Once Hanna set her mind to something, particularly to something like this, to freezing someone out, to cutting someone off that had hurt her...well, it was oneof her specialties. She'd perfected it. And now Spencer herself had fallen victim to it._

_"Spencer." Kyle said firmly. "If there's something I can help with, its relationship troubles. Come on, spill...you look like you at least need a really good listener." Spencer hesitated, glancing down as the words came to a crashing halt at the tip of her tongue. No...even if Kyle did seem genuine and sweet and concerned, it would onlybring more harm than good to talk about it...right? "What. Did the boyfriend pull a dick move or something? It hqppens...we've all been there."_

_"No." Spencer said suddenly, hating the idea of anyone thinking she wasn't at fault here. "No, actually..." She swallowed hard, the memory still so hard to recall without tearing up. "I'm the one who messed up. It was my fault."_

_"Well, you're a smart girl." Kyle said, after a long moment, shrugging. "Whatever happened, whatever it is that you did...well, if anyone can find a way to fix it, it's you. You're the smartest student I've ever met. Ever taught."_

_"No." Spencer said again, shaking her head. "It isn't that simple. I...really fucked it up. Told someone something I shouldn't have. I can't exactly take it back. There's no fixing it." Spencer shook her head, bowing it as her voice broke, sobs once again piling up in the back of her throat. This was the first time she had admitted that to herself, and as much as she believed it to be true, it still hurt like hell. Because this was something she couldn't fix. "I broke their trust, I can't...I'm a..." She couldn't even get the word out, it made her that sick to her stomach. The concept if being a...well, being a failure was not something was used to._

_"Hey." Kyle tilted Spencer's chin up with her fingertips, brushing her dark curls out of her face. "Buck up, Spencer. Because you know what? You have a good heart. Others might not see it, but it's there. Underneath all of that severity and ambition. Whatever you did, whatever you said, I'm guessing that you did it with the best of intentions. I mean...you clearly care about this person. You're in the middle of a meltdown over them, that's how much you care. And if they want to walk away from someone that cares about them that much? That is their failure, Spencer. Not yours. Never yours."_

* * *

><p>Spencer had never skipped school so often in her life – even when she had mono in the ninth grade. Her mother stuffed her with antibiotics and caffeine and sent her on her way. She wrapped herself in bubble wrap to avoid damage to her spleen during practice. It wasn't the smartest thing in the world to do, she knew that, but she'd do anything to avoid missing as much school as possible.<p>

Now, not so much. For the past five days, she'd been going half the day or not at all. Skipping classes to avoid Hanna one day, going to them just to see her the next day, dying for a glimpse of her. (These were the classes that Hanna usually found an excuse to vacate early in the period, and never return to.) Her parents were out of town, and the school didn't have the permission to call Melissa in their stead, so as long as she stayed out of her sister's way, no one had any idea – not that she cared. At this point, the only reason she got out of bed in the morning was the ever diminishing hope that she might be able to get Hanna back – if the blonde ever decided to listen to her.

Of course, in order to get that to happen, she would have to enlist some help. She'd realized that at this point, the point of all the desperate voicemails and doors closed in her face and glares sent her way from Hanna, and Emily and even Mona (who knew only of their falling out as friends.) Like always, she'd tried doing it on her own, sure she could manage it. But as the five days dragged on, her school attendance growing worse and worse as her ability to deal with anything beyond her mission to regain Hanna's affections dwindled to nothing, she had realized she couldn't do it alone. After all, the entire issue was that she hadn't been alone…so she couldn't fix it alone either.

She pulled up in front of the Grille, taking a cursory glance around to make sure there was no one she knew lurking nearby before slipping out of the SUV. "Toby?" She asked, as she pushed open the clear glass door to find the Grille empty, aside from the aforementioned boy. He was behind the bar, taking extra care in wiping it down.

"Didn't expect to see you here so soon." Toby said, not looking up from the bar until it was clean, resting his unyielding gaze on her. It was equal parts comforting and unnerving – comforting in that even in the chaos that her life had dissolved into, there were still things that remained steady and unchanged, but unnerving in the way that she still couldn't quite tell what he was thinking. "What do you need?"

"Would you believe that I'm just here to talk?" She asked, letting the door close behind her as she stepped inside, gripping the strap of her messenger bag. Toby's only response was a raised eyebrow, drawing a sigh from Spencer. "Well…okay, so I do need a bit of a favor." She said quickly, sitting down on one of the bar stools. "But…okay, there's no 'but' about it, I just need your help."

"Spencer Hastings, admitting that she needs help?" Toby asked, sounding almost amused as he set a glass down on the bar, filling it with seltzer. "Now, this is something I have to hear about."

Spencer sighed, taking the glass, but not drinking from it. "Ha ha." She said derisively, looking balefully up at Toby. "Hanna broke up with me. Again. And I need your help because this time, it was because someone anonymously send her a picture of you and me kissing the other day.

"…I hope you don't think I sent that picture." Toby said after a long pause.

"Of course I don't, Toby." Spencer said defensively. "Why would you even think that? I know you'd never do anything to hurt me, and besides, you were kissing me. How could you have even begun to have sent that picture?"

"Sorry, just…" Toby trailed off, shaking his head. "I'm sorry. What do you need me to do? Anything for you."

Spencer's heart wrenched at how heartfelt he sounded and for only an instant, she wondered if Hanna's worry about him wasn't entirely unfounded. But the moment passed. "I need you to talk to her. Tell her that it wasn't…that it didn't mean anything, and you were just…"

"Just what?" Toby looked like a puppy that had been kicked, and Spencer felt physically sick for asking him to do this. "Comforting you?"

"Yeah…" Spencer said softly, looking down at the bar. "I'm…I'm really sorry, Toby. I know this isn't easy for you."

"It doesn't matter what I think." Toby said, reaching over and covering her hand with his own. His hand was warm, rough from his carpentry projects no doubt, and she couldn't help but turn her hand over to hold his. He momentarily looked surprised, but quickly slipped back into his inscrutable state. "…I just want you to be happy, remember?"

"Well…if you could get her to meet you here, I'd appreciate it." She pulled her hand back as she remembered that this closeness was what had gotten her in trouble in the first place.

"I'll…give it a whirl." Toby said, taking Spencer's glass and drinking a little from it. "What makes you think she'll talk to me?"

"She won't talk to me." Spencer sighed. "And I'm hoping she'll at least have a misplaced desire for revenge that will lure her here."

"So you're putting me in the line of fire?" Toby raised an eyebrow again, making Spencer squirm a little, and not in a good way.

"…anything for me, right?" She asked, slipping off the barstool, looking up at him.

He nodded, and she relaxed as she saw the corner of his mouth twitch up into a slight smile. "Anything for you, Spencer."

"Spencer?" A female voice cut into their quiet conversation, and Spencer turned around, only to see that it was none other than Kyle Laughlin, her student teacher, and someone who could _definitely_ get her in trouble.

* * *

><p><em>Spencer took a deep breath, splashing cold water in her face to wake herself up, getting worn down after her string of sleepless nights. While Kyle's advice had put her somewhat at ease, it was hard to translate that into being alert. She glanced up at herself in the mirror, her eyes rimmed red from the last few nights of little sleep, torn between lying there and staring at her ceiling, begging for sleep to come, and being torn from it suddenly, by fevered nightmares about Hanna and Melissa and Toby and Kyle, for some reason. <em>

_ Kyle was right, she reminded herself often. She cared about Hanna, a lot. Maybe she hadn't meant to tell her mom about her flirting with an eating disorder, in the end, that was what was best, right? She'd thank her later when she was healthy and happy. She had only done the right thing, surely Hanna would be able to see that. Or at least see that she cared, and come back, even if she didn't agree._

_ Spencer's train of thought suddenly splintered as Hanna, of all people, rushed past her into the empty bathroom, bashing though one of the first stalls, dropping her purse on the ground and retching. Spencer looked away for a second, before moving forward, scooping Hanna's short hair away from her face, kneeling behind her, remaining quiet, even though she knew her point had probably just been proven._

_ They remained there in silence for a minute, Hanna sagging back against Spencer slightly before she jerked away. "Don't you dare say a word to me, Spencer Hastings, I am hungover." She snapped, glancing back at her. "I know what you're fucking thinking, and it's not any of your business – "_

_ "The hell it isn't." Spencer straightened up, brushing off her knees as she looked down at Hanna, who was still curled up on the floor. "I don't care what you think, Hanna. I care about you. Like…a lot, okay?" She glanced behind her to make sure they were still alone before she looked back at her, folding her arms over her chest. "I am not only your girlfriend, but I was just your friend once too, and if this is really the end, then I still want to be your friend. And that means helping when I can, even if you don't want it. You need it, Hanna. I know you don't understand that, and I know you can't see it, but you do. And I want to help you, and so does your mom. This isn't the end of the world, okay? I just want you to be okay, that's all. You deserve that and I want that for you, and I don't think it's right for you treat me like some…pariah for trying to give that to you."_

_ "Spencer, it's not any of your business." Hanna hissed again as she braced herself on the stall door to stand. She looked a little shaky on her feet, but her expression was so determined that Spencer almost didn't notice the weakness in her stance. "You think that just because you get straight A's and you know what the capital of Paraguay is, you can run around and tell people what they can and can't do. Newsflash, Spencer, you don't know everything. You aren't Oz, the great and powerful, and I am not your little ruby slipper wearing slave! I'm not going to go kill the witch for you, just because you think it's a good idea. I will handle my problems the way I see fit, and that's that. I am not letting you meddle."_

_ "But I'm your – "_

_ "You are my girlfriend, Spencer." Hanna cut her off. "_Maybe. _I still have to think about that. But that's…you're not my therapist. You're not my teacher, you're not….you're not in a position to tattle on me, it's not like I'm in any danger. It's not like it's bad. I will decide if and when I need help. You can't do that for me. I know you mean well, but this…this is out of your place, and out of your league. I don't care how many books or articles you've read about it or whatever, but I'm not…I'm not one of those statistics, and I never will be, okay?" Hanna's voice lapsed gently for a moment, before she hardened up again. "Just…leave me alone, please." She brushed past her, and Spencer tried to reach for her hand, to pull her back, to plead with her or something, but with just a brief meeting of their fingertips, she was gone, slipping out of her fingertips yet again._

* * *

><p>"M-Miss Laughlin!" Spencer's stomach sank as she stammered out the name. Shit. <em>Shit.<em> This wasn't going to work if she had to spend all her time in detention for skipping school. Not that she didn't deserve it, but…she paused as it really hit her - for once, something was more important than that, and if she wasn't so preoccupied with saving her relationship, that idea would have scared her. "I can explain…" She added weakly, her shoulders sagging as she realized she really couldn't without getting herself into even more trouble.

"How many times have I asked you to call me Kyle?" She replied, raising one eyebrow as she was wont to do, leaning against the wall of Grille. Spencer glanced behind her and saw that Toby had disappeared to parts unknown, leaving them alone. "Really now? We aren't even in school…which is another problem entirely."

"I know." Spencer sighed, looking away. "I've turned in all my work, though. And I can get the notes from Emily, for most things, or from the other AP students, I swear. My grades haven't dropped at all, and…wait, why aren't you in school?"

Kyle smirked. "I'm playing hooky too. As much as I love it, teenagers are a handful, and sometimes, I need a day off too. I won't tell if you won't."

Spencer relaxed a little, even allowing herself to smile. "Sounds like a deal to me, Kyle."

The other brunette beamed. "I'm just here for some take-out, actually – thank you, Toby." She said, as she took a bag from the boy who had suddenly appeared. "And I'm headed back to my loft…which is upstairs, lame, I know, but I'm a poor college student." She shrugged. "Anyway, if you don't have anywhere else to go, I was just going to pop in a movie and probably fall asleep…I wouldn't mind a little company. And you can let me know what's bothering you."

"I – how do you know something's bothering me?" Spencer asked, surprised by both her invitation and her insight.

"Please." Kyle said. "You're not in school, and with the kind of student you are, it has to be something big keeping you out. Plus you never told me how that whole confrontation went…and I'd have to assume that it didn't go well. Which means you need someone to talk to, and I'm a really good listener…"

Spencer hesitated, so unused to the idea that she had someone to confide in, to let know the whole story, the full picture. "I…I'd like that." She finally said, pulling her bag back onto her shoulder. "Lead the way." She hesitated again as Kyle smiled, turning to lead her out the door and into the entrance to the lofts upstairs, tucked away secretly by the plate glass window of the Grille. She ultimately followed her up, the smell of raw wood stinging her nose, reminding her of the way Toby had always smelled when he had been working on something. The memory was so bittersweet that it caused a physical pang, shooting off and banging around in the empty space that had been worn away in her chest after so much heartbreak. She could practically hear the bells clanging in her head, echoing as she ran her hand along the smooth wooden bannister, going up the stairs mindlessly, so lost in it that she almost walked right into Kyle, only breaking free from her trance as she heard the jingle of keys.

"You alright?" Kyle asked, as she pushed the door open with her hip, setting the bag of takeout down on a side table. "You look like a zombie."

"Sorry." Spencer said, setting her bag down carefully, standing awkwardly by the door, glancing around the apartment. It was homey, and neat, exposed beams, big windows that made the small space seem airy, and much larger than it was in actuality. The furniture was patchwork, lived in, the couch draped with a blanket that reminded Spencer of the one time she and her parents had gotten stranded in New Mexico on their way to Hawaii, and she'd spent a lot of time wandering the marketplace. There were candles and books everywhere, and there was the scent of raw wood still, but also cinnamon, which took the edge off and made it something different. "I was just…remembering." And that was all it was…a bittersweet memory. Nothing more than the ghosts of her past drifting by to haunt her, ghosts that she had become friendly with, that she no longer feared unless they snuck up on her, like they just had.

"Okay…so, what's up, exactly?" Kyle asked, pulling out one of the containers and dropping down onto the couch, turning on the TV which was already queued up to play _The Wizard of Oz._

"More of the same." Spencer said, carefully moving around the couch, sitting on the edge of it. "I fucked up…again. And I don't think I can fix it this time." She shrugged, looking down at her folded hands. "I'm going to try, though…I mean, I have to. I have nothing left." She looked over at Kyle. "I know that sounds stupid…I'm only seventeen. I have my whole life ahead of me. But that's…I can't help but feel like that. Even when everything is telling me that what I'm feeling is wrong."

Kyle shook her head. "No, Spencer. It doesn't matter how old you are. I'd…like to think that most teenagers are actually the most emotionally healthy people at any given moment. Don't scoff at me!" Kyle said, as Spencer reacted. "You guys know how to feel. Really. You…feel it all in the span of a few hours. You really get it out there. As you get older…you forget how to feel. I've seen it happen, with friends, with my parents…you concentrate on your job, and your kids, and your responsibilities, except for those brief, shining moments that make you feel alive…you lose the energy and the time to sit there and just…_feel._ So, never, ever say that what you feel is stupid, or wrong. Because you do know what you're feeling. And even if it hurts…embrace it. Own it. Remember it. Because you're going to look back, years from now, and think…'Wow, I sure was miserable, and it was worth every second of it.'"

Spencer just stared. Over the course of the past several weeks, she had gotten better advice from this woman – who couldn't be more than five years older than her, and didn't have much of a reason to care about her – than she had from anyone else before. "How did you get so…?" She trailed off as she realized she didn't even know how to describe it.

Kyle smirked, leaning over and starting the movie. "Oh Spencer, I never kiss and tell."

* * *

><p><em> It was going to be another sleepless night spent playing the piano with the white waterfall of moonlight cascading through the window as her only company. Spencer sighed to herself as she wistfully drew her fingers over the cool ivory of the keys. Her light touches weren't enough to register into actual notes, but the action was calming, and she could imagine she was running her hands over something else. Well, someone else, really. Try as she might, she couldn't keep her mind off of Hanna, off of what she'd said. They weren't technically broken up, she'd made that clear enough, but she couldn't help but grieve for them, what they had lost. The time, the trust, the intimacy, everything…even if they survived this, there were still casualties. And it was all her fault, every bit of it. She'd messed with things she didn't understand, yet again, and made things worse for herself, and worse for Hanna. Even if she could forgive her, Spencer wasn't sure if she could forgive herself.<em>

_ "You're begging for the truth, so I'm saying it to you. I've been saving your place, but what good does it do? Now I'm just a basket case…" This song was the one song she had actually learned how to play, after her split with Toby she had found its lyrics oddly comforting. Not that her vocals were spectacular or anything, but it felt nice, to just pour it out into words and music and just let it go. So caught up she was that she didn't notice the window darken from a shadow before it was deftly slid open, a small figure dropping down in the small space between the wall and the window. Footsteps masked by piano notes, Spencer didn't notice until she glanced up to brush her hair out of her face, shrieking and tipping backwards off the edge of the piano bench, just barely managing to catch herself. "Hanna?" She gasped, too caught up in her shock to be pleased to see her. "What the hell was that?"_

_"You taught me how to get in if the door was locked and the light wasn't on in your bedroom window…" Hanna said, shrugging. "Remember?"_

_ Spencer shook her head. "No." She said, mostly because she couldn't even think about it right now, think about anything but her being here as the shock began to wear off. "You're here…I didn't think…" She trailed off as Hanna slipped into her lap, her breath hitching in her chest. It had been seven days since they'd last touched any more than fingertips, and although it was a relatively short time, Spencer was still starved for her and it felt like sensory overload. "Hanna…"_

_ "I'm sorry." Hanna stopped her, two fingertips against her lips, her change in demeanor sudden, confusing…but welcome. Spencer relaxed slightly as she heard those words, pulling Hanna's hand away from her mouth and down into her lap. She traced the back of it lightly as she listened, feeling as though she was falling under a spell. "Not that I'm…happy with what you did, but…nobody cares about me like you do, Spencer. You're intense, and…and I knew that when I signed up…" She slid her hands to Spencer's shoulders. "I should have expected you'd go above and beyond everything, even what I wanted, just to help me. Just to take care of me. And most of all, I should have never gotten so upset when you were just…being you. I…I _like _you." She said softly, leaning in, Spencer's eyes never leaving her features, caught up in her words, her apologies, in the idea that everything could be back to normal, forgetting how utterly sudden this change of heart was, how abrupt. She could focus on nothing more than the fact that she had her back, somehow, after everything that had happened, after everything they'd been through._

_ "I forgive you." Spencer whispered, gazing at her, hand falling to the soft line of her waist, pulling her closer. "I forgive you, I forgive you, I forgive you." She repeated in the same soft tone as she leaned in, burying her face in her neck, just needing to feel her. "I hate fighting with you, I miss you so much…"_

_ "Spencer…" Before she knew it, Hanna's lips were crashing against hers, and no conscious thought was possible. How many nights had she laid awake, haunted by the ghosts of her kisses, starved by them? She was so hungry for her that she dove in without a second thought. The notes on the piano were sour, but she had never heard anything sweeter, never felt anything like this, not even compared to all the other times they'd done this. Hanna's hands clasped the back of her neck, her legs wrapping around her waist as Spencer pushed her up against the piano, hands slipping under her shirt, practically ripping it off her head, breaking the kiss for only that moment. Never before had she been so desperate for her – sure, she could blame the time they'd spent apart, the distance, the emotions she'd struggled with, but something about it felt different. She couldn't place it, couldn't even tell what it was, but Hanna gripped tighter, bit harder, kissed deeper. "I want you." She gasped, breaking a kiss, holding Spencer's face in both hands, barely stopping to catch her breath as she pressed her forehead to Spencer's. "I want you so bad…" She gasped, arching her hips down against hers, Spencer biting her lower lip to keep from having an audible reaction. "Spencer, please…"_

_ "You don't even have to ask." Spencer whispered, finally lifting her off the piano as she kissed her again, the heat building up in her like the swell of a wave, her chest heaving with the intensity that ripped through her. She staggered backwards up the stairs, dragging Hanna with her until she slipped and landed on her back, just barely managing to avoid hitting her head on the staircase. _

_ "Are you alright, baby?" Hanna whispered, dropping down beside her. Spencer could barely get out a nod before she rolled over on top of her, gripping her shoulders hard as she kissed her. Spencer could barely bear it, how she felt against her, the things her kiss drew out in her, feelings she'd only ever sought to hide, or bury. She spent so much of her time trying to control and contain the parts of herself that she didn't like or want or understand…it wasn't until Hanna had happened to her that she realized that if she let herself feel all of it instead of try to push it away…if she let Hanna draw out the things she had once considered the worst, wanton parts of herself, it was beyond anything she'd ever felt, in every possible way._

_ "Don't stop." Spencer gasped, digging her nails into Hanna's shoulders as the blonde's lips were wrought from hers and instead against her neck, her hot breath and gentle yet deliberate touches driving her more wild than she'd ever admit. "God, Hanna, don't you dare stop…my parents won't be home until tomorrow night, and…just don't stop."_

_ Hanna's expression was positively wicked. "I won't, babe. Count on it." And with every passing second, the hole that had worn itself into Spencer's insides – solely from the turmoil of being so starved for Hanna – began to heal._

* * *

><p>"For someone so open, I hardly know anything about you." Spencer said, standing up off the couch, restless. She'd gotten a text from Toby, letting her know that Hanna had agreed to meet him when he got off work at six. She glanced at the clock and sighed heavily when she saw it was only four, looking over her shoulder at Kyle. "You have a taste for takeout, and you like politics, and you're like my own personal Yoda. That's it."<p>

Kyle shrugged, swilling her glass of red wine around – she'd staunchly refused to give Spencer any, but hadn't restrained herself from drinking a little. "Maybe that's just because you haven't asked the right questions, Ms. Hastings."

"Oh, so it's Ms. Hastings now?" Spencer asked, turning fully on her heel, raising a brow. "What happened to your dislike of the formal?"

"It ran away with your dislike of the informal, apparently." Kyle replied. "But, like I said, if you want to know, just ask. I am an open book…mostly. Except where I've ripped pages out to hide them from people, but there aren't many of those instances. Anyway…ask away." She reclined back against the couch, watching Spencer expectantly.

"What year were you born?" Spencer asked after a moment of looking back at her, but suddenly turning away. She felt uncomfortable, but not in a normal way.

"1989." Kyle answered instantly.

"Where did you rank in your high school class, out of how many?" She asked, glancing at the diploma framed on the wall.

"112 out of around 400." Kyle said, after a moment of contemplation. "I would have been much higher up, but…I made quite a few decisions that you would probably consider poor, which affected my schoolwork and got me kicked out of National Honors Society. My parents were _furious._"

Spence turned to look at her, a question about these so called poor decisions on the tip of her tongue before she froze for a moment. "…who's this?" She asked quietly, stepping over to the end table next to the couch, picking up a framed photo. The frame itself was what had caught her attention at first, heavy, tarnished silver metal, but the image ended up being the far more fascinating part. Kyle was in it, of course, laying on the beach, clawing at the sand as the waves washed up over her. It was very obviously staged to look like she was being dragged out to sea, but it was quite deftly done, with seaweed wrapped around one of her ankles for good measure, looking like the tentacle of some horrible sea creature. But the woman next to her was the most intriguing part of all. She was blonde, hair down to her shoulders, halfway through drying, hanging around her face in ill-defined spirals. Instead of a swimsuit, she was in acid washed cutoffs and a crop top that exposed her midsection, an intricate tribal tattoo crawling up the left side, disappearing beneath the hem of her shirt. Her face was alight, shiny with sunburn, but cast in such a textbook expression of glee that Spencer almost couldn't look away.

"Who's…" Kyle trailed up as she sat up further on the couch, shifting forward and pulling the frame out of Spencer's hands. "My ex." She said quietly, strained but not wistful in any way. "Now that's someone I haven't thought about in a while." She looked up at Spencer as she handed the frame back to her. "It didn't end well at all. I mean, it could have been worse, it could always be worse. But I…I try not to think about it."

"Then why do you have the picture?" Out of all of the things Spencer wanted to ask, that seemed the least invasive, the least offensive, even if she was dying to find a kindred spirit, someone caught in the same spot that she was.

"To remind myself that some people can't be trusted." Kyle spoke, with renewed steel in her voice, locking eyes with Spencer. "Not with your heart, not with anything." She glanced down at the empty seat on the couch beside her, her expression invitational as she looked back up at Spencer. "I can put on another movie, if you've got the time."

The warning seemed…rather ominous, and Spencer couldn't help but get an uneasy feeling in her stomach. But, still, she set the picture down on the table and curled back up on the couch – albeit on the opposite end. "Yes, I have time." She said, resting her aching head against the worn leather, wondering what the hell that woman had done to Kyle, and what she had been before this mysterious, world weary, advice giving student teacher? The thought was exhausting, and she didn't even know she had fallen asleep until Kyle was shaking her awake.

"Spencer?" The student teacher asked, and it was only then that Spencer realized her head had fallen onto Kyle's shoulder. (She smelled just like her apartment, cinnamon and raw wood, but also like flowers. Gardenias or something, Hanna had liked that. Wait, why was she smelling her _teacher?_) Spencer jerked away, rubbing her head, glancing at Kyle who looked concerned.

"Sorry…why didn't you wake me?" She asked, her voice muzzy from being caught in sleep.

"I fell asleep too." Kyle said, stretching, running her hands through her dark hair, fluffing it out a bit. "Didn't you have to be somewhere?"

"Oh…right." Spencer glanced around, becoming slightly more awake. "What time is it?"

"Ah…almost six?" Spencer was now fully awake, scrambling for her messenger bag. "…oh, that's when…okay, I'm sorry." Kyle said, watching as she picked up her things, stepping out of her way. "I was up a half an hour ago or so, I just…I wanted to let you sleep, you looked exhausted."

"It's okay." Spencer said, picking her coat up off the floor, wrapping it around herself, cold for more than one reason. "I just…I have to go." She paused at the door, looking over her shoulder at Kyle. "Thank you. You know…for everything." She said, smiling a bit before she started making her way down the stairs. She had left at just the right time too, because as she situated herself in the corner of the restaurant, hidden, mostly, behind a large plant and the hood of her coat pulled tight around her features, Hanna stepped inside.

She looked awful, and Spencer wasn't sure if that made it good for her or not, but she felt terrible as she looked at her, sweats, no make-up, short hair obviously unconditioned. Hanna sank down at a table, eyes glued to her phone, biting at her thumbnail, her blue eyes flicking to Toby, who was wiping down a table. Spencer looked to him for a minute too, before casting her eyes around the restaurant. It was empty except for one other boy, a redhead she had never seen before. Writing him off, she looked down at the table, waiting, only looking up as the bell to the door jingled, her jaw dropping as she laid eyes on the tall, bohemian blonde that slipped into the restaurant.

Sage wore a haughty expression, as though she knew exactly the chaos she was about to cause. Spencer leapt to her feet, hoping to distract her or something, get her out before Hanna could see, but it was already too late. There she was, leaning over Hanna, whispering something in her ear, the gesture so intimate that it made Spencer's blood boil. Before she could walk over, though, she caught the look on Hanna's face, and she knew what was going to happen before it happened. She found herself rooted to the spot, looking on helplessly as Hanna stood abruptly, punching Sage square in the jaw.

* * *

><p><em> Spencer was pretending to sleep when Hanna started whispering. "This is so messed up."<em>

* * *

><p>It was all a blur, Spencer realized once it was over. A blur of limbs and shouting and herself rushing forward, almost slipping on the smooth floor, going for Sage as Toby reached over, wrapping a strong arm around Hanna's waist. Startled, the shorter blonde's fist flew up, hitting Toby in the eye, who was so startled that he instantly released her, falling back into the arms of the pale, redheaded boy who had become the accidental witness to this whole mess.<p>

"Hanna!" Spencer snapped, jerking Sage out of the way of her, practically throwing her to the side before using her arms to deflect Hanna, who was moving too fast to divert her path before she flew into Spencer, almost knocking her over. "What the hell are you doing?!"

"That's right, you'd better run, bitch!" Hanna called over Spencer's shoulder, fighting her halfheartedly as the bell above the door jingled signaling her exit. "Spencer, let go of me!" She shoved at her shoulders.

"Hell no." Spencer snapped at her, actually finding herself getting angry at her, and at the situation. It didn't seem to matter what she did to convince Hanna that this was all a mistake, that she really did love her, and all she wanted in this world was to be with her, she didn't listen. Or everything backfired on her. It was like dominoes toppling down against her, more and more and more until she couldn't hold them up anymore. Or trying to keep the entire street dry during a rainstorm only using a funnel and a shot glass. Infuriating and impossible and yet, she was unable to stop trying.

That didn't stop her from getting infuriated, however. She dragged Hanna all the way into the walk-in freezer in the back. "You need to cool off, Hanna, dammit!" She snapped, wrapping her arms tight around her chest, trying to breath or focus or something, calm down so that all of her unexpressed anger at the universe didn't spontaneously erupt.

"What were you even trying to do?" Hanna threw her hands up, before pulling them back, holding her forehead, walking around in circles as the chilled air became more and more jarring and apparent.

"I was trying to make you see that Toby and I kissing weren't exactly a big deal." Spencer sighed, turning away from her. "That it didn't mean anything to me, and even if it meant something to him, we're done with that part of our lives. Both of us. He isn't – "

"It's not even about that anymore, Spencer, don't you see?" Hanna no longer sounded frustrated, just desperate, and that struck Spencer as not only odd, but unnerving – something she should be afraid of. "Have you stopped trying to get me back for one second? Have you taken enough time to just look around and think about this? About how screwed up this has been? Not only now, but since it's started? Everything we've had to deal with? That's not normal, and you know it. The pregnancy scare, the secrecy and the sneaking around and everything that's come from that, A, our…exes and hookups coming back to haunt the both of us…this isn't what relationships are like, and this isn't what ours should be like. And you have to know that it's true. We should have everything, but we don't. Spencer…" Hanna trailed off, stepping up towards her, gently laying her hands on her shoulders where not only a minute before, she was pushing her away. "I don't think we're meant to be."

"Hanna…" Spencer couldn't get anything else out before the blonde stepped up on tiptoe and kissed her, holding her by the shoulders. It was sweet, but not soft or gentle. Firm. To The point. Final. Her stomach dropped, her heart ached, but there was nothing she could do in that moment but kiss her back, because she knew that this time, Hanna wouldn't be changing her mind. Once the kiss broke, they locked eyes for a moment, Hanna patted her shoulder lightly, and then she was alone in the freezer, out of ideas and out of chances. She wasn't sure how she made it outside before she broke down, but it wasn't until she was sitting in the bench outside the Grille that she began to cry. She buried her face in her hands as the sobs piled up in her throat and she choked them out one by one, afraid to show her emotions in public. But really, she had no choice but to sit on Main Street and bawl over the remnants of the only thing she had left to fight for. The overwhelming sense of purposelessness crashed over her and she couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, couldn't think because of it. It consumed her, invaded her, until she couldn't hold back and she was openly sobbing, doubled over from the weight of everything coming down on her. The void was so deep, dark and gaping that she ached for emptiness, trembling, so enveloped in the unfolding starvation that she didn't notice the hand on her shoulder until Kyle was practically shouting at her.

"Spencer!" The brunette couldn't even look up, curling further in on herself, away from Kyle, devastated. She didn't stay that way for long, however, as Kyle grabbed her wrist, forcing her up off the bench. "Come on…" She couldn't see through her tears, but she could feel Kyle's arm around her shoulders, and smell the raw wood and cinnamon of her apartment and feel the worn leather of the couch against her skin as she collapsed down on it. "What happened? Should I call your parents, I…" She sounded beyond confused, and Spencer didn't blame her – she herself didn't even know what way was up anymore.

She shook her head to both accounts. "No." She choked out weakly, unable to repeat to her what had happened – she had spent every day of the past two months fighting tooth and nail to hang onto something, only to have it ripped away from her again and again and again. Hanna was probably right – she couldn't deny that. It had been so hard. She'd had to fight so much. Things weren't supposed to be like that, they weren't. And as much as she hated accepting any logic that left her without Hanna, it was just that…logic.

So why was she so devastated?

She tugged the blanket down around her shoulders from the couch, closing her fingers into it tightly, trying to force herself to calm down, taking breaths as deep as she could manage, counting to ten over and over again until she'd lost count of how many times she counted. She could feel Kyle's worried eyes on her, but she did nothing to ease that worry, she couldn't. In fact, she didn't pay attention to her until she tapped on her shoulder.

"Ah, Spencer, your phone's ringing." She said, trying to hand it to her. Before she could refuse, however, Kyle continued. "It's an unknown number."

Even knowing that, even with the certain jerking feeling in her stomach that came with that sort of call, she almost declined it. It was too much. But that was only almost, and after a moment, she gingerly took the phone from Kyle, shaking as she answered it. "Hello."

The voice was garbled, changed, deep and menacing and even though some part of her had been expecting it, Spencer jumped. "Tick tock, Spencer. If you want another chance with Hanna, you need to follow the yellow brick road. But if you don't find your way to the wizard in time, not even the ruby slippers will bring her back home. Tick tock…"

* * *

><p>AN: I'm tempted to present this without comment, but I'm not that mean. I'll try to get the next one up as soon as possible! (School might get in the way.) Only one left, and then the epilogue. For those of you who don't follow me on tumblr - what are you doing with your life if you aren't - the sequel has a title, and it's called _Hourglass._ I'm so excited for you guys to read it. And I'm getting all mushy and stuff because I've never come this far with a story before and it's really all because of you guys and wow I'm just overwhelmed.


	10. Spin

It was a quiet night at Rosewood Community Hospital. Except for the occasional beep from a monitor, or the sound of no-slip soles scuffing along the floor, it was eerily calm. Too calm. The kind of calm that, from the experience and prior knowledge of every doctor, nurse, janitor and other employee there, preceded something terrible. But even though the calm was more than ominous, it didn't stop Wren Kingston from enjoying his lunch – er, dinner – er, well, meal. He'd found the good break room empty, the one with the TV that played the good channels, which was responsible for the West Ham game that he was now watching. It wasn't as though he enjoyed being back at Rosewood, really. Too much had happened there for him to enjoy it in the slightest. If it weren't for the fact that his rotations hadn't already been set, he would have switched in a heartbeat. But it was complicated and convoluted, and Wren didn't have much of a stomach for either of those two characteristics any longer, and so he remained in the town he despised for the remainder of his time.

About five minutes before his pager went off, Wren got a funny feeling in his stomach, but brushed it off as aftereffects of the cafeteria food. But off it went, and off _he_ went. (And he never did find out about the score of the West Ham game either.)

It was a trauma case, but not a serious one, not life threatening. Just blood and stitches and minor burns and other mild traumas. Wren was almost tempted to turn around, seeing as everyone was working on her. But he caught the glimpse of blonde hair, streaked with ashes and blood, fanned out, falling off the sheets, and he had to look at her. Just once. To make sure it wasn't who he thought it was.

Wren believed in creating one's own luck, but he wasn't sure how he'd managed to make his own luck be this terrible. Because lying on that bed, bruised, burned, bleeding and unconscious, was Hanna Marin. Her rejection hadn't hurt so much as seeing her like this did, and for a moment, he was paralyzed where he stood, going tunnel vision as he stared at her. But that moment passed, and, horrified at his inaction, he reached forward, yanking her chart out of his fellow intern's hands, ignoring the protests shouted at him. "Alright, let's put her on a drip!" He ordered, shoving the same intern towards the equipment. "Get some nitrofurazone on those burns. Is there a neuro on call? She could have a serious head injury."

"It's all taken care of, now get." The attending there ordered sternly, and he was forced to obey – after all, intern exams were coming up and he didn't need to go in with marks already on his record. Even as he stepped aside, however, he couldn't help but watch. This was a girl he had cared about – still cared about, and there was no way he could go back to his food or his game after seeing this. He hadn't gotten a good enough look at her chart to realize what had happened to her to injure her in this way, but he had a notion that it wasn't accidental, and that made his blood boil, as calm as he normally was.

The sound of sobbing broke through the barrier of his attentions, and he momentarily diverted his attention from Hanna. Perhaps he needed a distraction. Someone to comfort, to take care of. But the temporary paralysis seeped back in as he laid eyes on none other than Spencer Hastings, cowering in the corner and sobbing into someone else's arms.

They were friends, her and Hanna, he knew that. But the look in Spencer's eyes told him something much different than that. He turned after a moment, unable to stomach the fact that her eyes, the degree to which she was upset, had told him everything he needed to know about his future with both of them. Just by looking at Spencer, he knew, without a shadow of a doubt, that he had lost both of them forever.

* * *

><p><em>Spencer didn't even realize she'd fainted until she felt the slightly rough fibers of Kyle's well-worn carpet against her cheek. Her throat was thick with shock, like it was coated with honey so nothing could get through, and even though her eyes fluttered open in time to see the cold water flying at her face, Kyle hadn't seen them in time enough to stop it. "Jesus!" She gasped, as the freezing water ran in rivulets down her features, looking up at Kyle, who looked horrified.<br>"Sorry, I…I didn't see you had woken up." She said, helping her up to sit on the couch, features etched with worry, her dark eyes wide with more than just the concern of a teacher as she looked up at Spencer. "I know I've been lenient before when I've asked this, but Spencer, I'm not just asking anymore. What the hell is going on?"_

"_I…" She trailed off, unsure of how to answer that question, unsure of everything really. The haze from being unconscious, however brief a time that had been, had been lifted and the panic and the urgency was seeping back into her system. Hanna. A had Hanna, and didn't sound like they had any qualms about hurting her. Her stomach twisted in revulsion, and it felt like her insides were on fire from how much fear was burning through her, but her exterior was ice cold. She picked up the phone with almost no tremor in her hands, checking the time of the anonymous call, finding it, to her relief, to only be from five minutes before. "I have to go, Kyle, but thank you for all your help." She said shakily, grabbing her bag, trying to scramble together some sort of plan of attack, caught up in her own head and her own fear so much that she yelped as Kyle yanked her back._

"_You are not walking another step out of here until you tell me what is going on." Kyle said firmly, in a tone that clearly stated she wasn't a woman to be fucked with. "I have tried to keep my distance, Spencer, really. Physically…emotionally…and it hasn't worked. Spencer, I don't know what it is about you, but I need to help you. Okay? Let me help you, Spencer, you aren't an island…or at least you don't have to be. Please. You're a seventeen year old girl, and…I don't know what you're going through, but I've had my share of rough shit. And I didn't deserve it then, and you certainly don't deserve it now. Tell me what is going on."_

_Something about Kyle's fierce protectiveness, her forceful concern made her crumble. It was so alien to her that in her fragile, delicately balanced state, she couldn't withstand against that sort of assault. Her knees buckled, but she made it back to the couch before she collapsed completely, losing it, burying her face in her hands as her tears began to fall, shaking the so far steady line of her shoulders as she hunched forward with sobs, wishing above all else that she could coil in on herself and disappear from this entire situation. She had always been told she was good under pressure, but she was beginning to think that that had never been the case – this was just the fallout after her many years of pushing it down and hiding and ignoring it. Not to mention what was at stake. "We don't have much time." She got out, fighting for deep breaths as she got to her feet again, trying to remember what A had told her as she grabbed her bag. 'Tick tock.' "I'll explain in the car, come on." She grabbed Kyle's wrist and was pulling her down the stairs before the woman could say otherwise._

"_Where are we going – let me drive." Kyle steered Spencer to the passenger's side of her modest sedan. (The only redeeming quality about it was that it was a brilliant shade of sky blue. The color reminded her of Hanna's eyes.) "Start talking, smart aleck, where am I taking you?"_

"_Tick tock." Spencer repeated quietly, feeling Kyle's eyes shift to her, knowing how insane she must have sounded from her perspective. But still, she couldn't let that worry her, not now. "Tick tock, it was the only…" She trailed off. It was the only part of what A had said that didn't have anything to do with the series of The Wizard of Oz clues, so it had to be that. Tick tock. Time. Clock. Her time was limited yes, but it was more than that – more often than not, when A played a game, they wanted her to win, so they wouldn't leave her with nowhere to start. So 'tick tock' was more than just a metaphor, it was – "The clock tower!" Spencer suddenly exclaimed, watching as Kyle jumped to attention, startled. "That's where we have to be, go there. As fast as you can."_

"_You start explaining, as fast as you can." Kyle said, revving up the engine, throwing on an old sweater that was patterned like some time of southwestern poncho, bright lines, colors that didn't match – the cacophony was fascinating, and it would have caught her eye more fully if she hadn't been preoccupied. Everything about the woman, her insight, her determination, her mystery, was fascinating. More so, it was distracting…Spencer was panicking, make no mistake, but somehow, Kyle being there made it all seem…smaller. Reduced it to the space of her chest instead of her entire body and beyond. Kyle, above all else, made her hope. And that was a terrifying, but comforting thing._

"_Hanna's my girlfriend." She got out, after a long moment. "Well, ex-girlfriend. I don't know what's going on anymore, but…we were dating. I love her." She looked over at Kyle, whose eyes were focused on the road. "I love her. More than I've loved anyone, ever, in my life. I don't care if she doesn't want to be with me, I just…I need her to be happy. And I need her to be safe, and right now, she's the furthest thing from safe. Nothing else matters right now, not…not the fights that we've had, or the people that have gotten in the way, or what she may or may not think about our future…she just has to be okay. She has to be okay." Spencer took a deep breath, burying her face in her hands. Reality was sinking in again, and it was terrifying. The thought of losing Hanna again, just in a much more permanent way was terrifying. Everything was terrifying. Spencer had reached a point where all of the terror and the stress and the panic had built to such a level that she'd reached her threshold and could feel no more than a thick tension within herself, causing her to grip the armrest in Kyle's car with white knuckles._

"_So, why are we going to the clock tower?" Kyle asked after a long moment._

_Spencer took a deep, shaking breath. "Now, _that_, is the long part of the story…"_

* * *

><p>Everything about this was so wrong. It wasn't just the warped microcosm of her and Spencer's relationship any longer – everything seemed wrong. What had happened to Hanna, the true extent of Spencer's torment, how deep the wounds of everyone in this town ran. It all made Kyle sick to her stomach, but more than that, it made her angry. Angry in a way that she hated, angry in a deep, primal way that made the deepest, most hidden parts of her body ache with rage, anger that twisted the fibers of her bones, an anger so deep and ground into her that it scared her, reminded her of things she no longer wished to remember. But it was justified, as much as she hated it. These were girls, these were young girls who deserved none of the hate and the venom that was being thrown at them. They deserved the chance for innocence and acceptance and everything else the fairytale childhood was supposed to offer. The loss of that for them made her angry.<p>

Especially Spencer. Not that Kyle meant to favor, or knew enough to favor fairly, but it was just that she'd gotten a clear snapshot of Spencer's inner life, as well as her interpersonal life, and she didn't like what she saw. The drive for perfection, at the cost of autonomy, sanity, and self-esteem, the self-hate that quickly took its place in the void worn away inside her by constant worrying, striving, studying, trying, holding onto shreds of something that were never intended to hold her up in the first place. She was reminded Kyle far too much of herself. And for Spencer's sake, the mirror image was terrifying.

"It's going to be okay." She whispered, her arm wrapped securely around Spencer's trembling shoulders, trying desperately to provide some comfort for the shell shocked girl, although she was sure Spencer wasn't listening in the first place. Her sobs were muffled against her chest as she pushed pathways through her hair in a soft rhythm, taking pause to lightly trace the curves of her curls and waves. She fought the urge to sigh wistfully as Spencer curled her hands into her poncho, her body literally heaving as she tried to control her breathing. "Spencer, you need to calm down. They're doing all they can for Hanna, and working yourself into a frenzy isn't going to help her."

"I..I can't…" Spencer's voice was breathless, riddled with tremors and tiny breaths and fibers of panic, a tone Kyle was all too familiar with. "Ky-Kyle, I can't…"

"Stay put." Kyle said, standing instantly after patting her hand lightly, trying to instill some comfort. She searched the now crowded ER for someone who needed something to do, finally finding a younger doctor, probably an intern, standing to the side. "Excuse me? I…that girl over there is in the midst of a panic attack, and she needs a sedative or something, can you help me?"

"Of course." There was a British twang to his voice that threw her unexpectedly, but she went with it, following him as he dug through a nearby drawer, pulling out a syringe. She flinched – needles weren't ever really her thing – but followed him closely anyway, pulling Spencer back into her arms, twisting her fingertips through her hair and grounding her with her touch as she watched them interact. An uneasy feeling rumbled in the pit of her stomach – something was off here, something wasn't right. "Spencer, I'm going to give you a sedative, this isn't good for you."

"Wr-Wren?" Perhaps it was just the panic, but something in Spencer's voice rubbed her the wrong way. "W-what are you…" The question was left unfinished, and thus, unanswered. Spencer looked away and winced as the needle pierced her skin, and Kyle forced herself to look away – she didn't need nausea on top of all the other chaos. A small whimper echoed at the back of Spencer's throat, and Kyle pulled her tighter, jumping a little when Spencer's arms wrapped fully around her.

"I can take it from here." Wren said, in a gentle way that was implied to be not gentle at all, and Kyle instantly stiffened, looking up at the doctor who's smile might have been charming were it not for the thoughts that so clearly laid behind it. "You should go, it's a bit crowded in here, wouldn't want any accidents to happen."

"No, don't go…" Spencer whispered breathlessly, causing both of them to look down at her. Spencer's grip on Kyle's poncho visibly tightened and the chair made a scraping noise against the tiled floor as she shifted closer. "Don't go, please."

"You heard the lady." Kyle said, looking back up at Wren, who seemed more than a little put off, shifting in his stance, features twisted in the annoyance of rejection. "She needs her space, Dr…."

"Kingston." He said shortly, his smooth voice and accent sounding like they had been coiled up like a spring suddenly. "It's Dr. Kingston, and I'm afraid I'll have to look Miss Hastings over, to make certain she hasn't sustained any major injuries."

"She hasn't." Kyle said firmly. "Look, Dr. Kingston, I'm sure there will be someone else coming along shortly that can help you fulfill your hero complex, but until that happens, could you please leave Spencer and I alone? I've got it under control."

Wren's jaw visibly clenched, and for a moment, Kyle thought she was going to have to slap him to make him go away. But Spencer sat up - a little weakly, the sedative clearly taking effect – and looked Wren square in the eye. "Wren, I don't love you. Get over it." She said, and even though her voice was but a mere wisp, Kyle could sense the firmness, the finality behind her words.

"Good girl." She whispered, pulling her a bit closer as she began to sag against her, the sedative clearly hitting her, and hitting her hard. She glanced up to see that the British doctor had slipped away, probably with his tail between his legs, the image of which caused a smile to twist up her features for an instant. She brushed Spencer's hair way from her cheek. "Who was that jackass?" She asked her softly, trying to help keep her mind off of other things."

"Doesn't matter." Spencer said, her voice muzzy from sleepiness as she pulled away, only to rest her head on Kyle's shoulder. "You…you don't have to stay."

Kyle reached up to smooth her hair again, closing her eyes as she rested her head back against the wall, letting the wave of exhaustion her adrenaline had been holding off crash over her. She should have left. Called Spencer's parents or her sister and gone home and forgot about this night by finding the bottom of a bottle of tequila. Forgot she'd ever gone to these lengths for a student, for Spencer. Forgot the way it felt to have her tremble against her, forget how her heart wrenched when she saw her cry, forget the fleeting thoughts of what could be, and yet could not.

"I want to stay." She whispered, after a long moment. And she did, truly. Even if it was killing her to do so.

* * *

><p><em>The car was eerily silent in the aftermath of Spencer's explanation, and several full minutes were spent just staring at the road on the way to the clock tower. The uncomfortable silence settled over them, filled the car like concrete, heavy and thick, and with each passing moment, Spencer wondered if Kyle was simply choosing to ignore her, or not believe her. She wouldn't have found that out of the ordinary at this point, so it didn't sting, at least, not that much. <em>

_ "So…" Kyle's sudden speech startled her. "Let me get this straight…" She glanced over at her for a second. "Some superhuman bitch in a black hoodie is hellbent on ruining your life, stalking you, hoarding all of your deepest, darkest secrets, using them to blackmail you into doing things, all while invoking Ali DiLaurentis' memory? And now they've escalated out of nowhere and they have Hanna?"_

_ "…sounds pretty ridiculous, doesn't it?" Spencer said quietly. It did. It sounded like something out of some trashy fiction novel she would read under her bedroom covers after her parents had gone to bed back when she was twelve. She couldn't be angry at Kyle for her obvious confusion – the process of explaining the entire thing had confused her too. None of it seemed to make sense, and not just because she was enveloped in the torment. It literally did not make sense anymore – not that it ever had. Mostly, this, what her life had dissolved into, sounded like the collected ravings of the Radley Sanatorium. If it weren't for the situation with Hanna, the true terror of that would have struck her. "But that's the truth. A has ruined every relationship I've ever had. They've hurt me, they've hurt my friends, done everything to make my life a living hell. And they did." She added suddenly, as it dawned on her. "They have. They won. A won."_

_ "Not quite yet." Kyle said, the brightness and the optimism in her voice almost blinding. "Ever heard of a little thing called the eleventh hour?" She pointed out the windshield, where the clock tower was in full display – Spencer hadn't even realized they'd stopped moving._

_ "Wait here!" She vaulted out of the car, her adrenaline beginning to get the best of her, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. Panic was the underlying fuel, yes, but now that she had begun, now that she was the thick of it, it was just that – fuel. It wasn't overtaking her. She had long since learned to channel fear into energy, into drive and focus, into a winning formula that her family had perfected over the years. As she ran towards the clock tower, she realized that A had made a fatal mistake by making this a hunt, a competition to be either won or lost. As terrified as she was, she was still a Hastings. _

_And a Hastings always had to win._

_ She skidded to a stop beneath the clock tower, looking up to see…nothing. She looked at the surrounding structure, her mind moving a million miles an hour as she craned her body to look – nothing. She took a deep breath, before letting out a frustrated noise, burying her hands in her hair as she tried to center herself – she had to be smarter than that. Whatever what was here would be less obvious. She checked her phone – nothing. Her eyes finally landed on a coffee cup, balanced against the stone of the clock tower. Could it be…? She picked up, pretending that her hands weren't trembling as she looked it over. Finally, she turned the empty cup over, finding lettering in sharpie neatly covering the bottom of the cup. 'You're going to need some magic beans if you want to rescue the damsel in distress. Wonder where you can get those? Kisses, A.'_

_ It took her a moment, to figure it out as she looked at the cup. She was already halfway back once she started getting an idea of what it meant, and by the time she was climbing back into the passenger's seat, she still had no idea. "Well, where are we going?" Kyle asked. Spencer could feel her eyes on her, expectant, yet concerned. She brushed off the concern, too focused to deal with something like that._

_ "I don't…know." She finally said, glancing back at Kyle, showing her the writing on the bottom of the cup. "Magic beans?"_

_ "…coffee beans." Kyle said, after a moment. "We have to go to this coffee shop, it's only five minutes away. Before Spencer could even process what she had said, she was already pulling back out onto the road. _

_ "That was…so simple." Spencer said, after a moment. And it was. How could she have missed something so asinine, so inelegant? "How did you…?"_

_ "I'm not overthinking it, Spencer. You are. And if anything's going to hold us back, it's that." She replied. "You're like this a lot, you know. You get so caught up in the details and every minute aspect of whatever you're considering that you almost miss the big picture. Of course, your work is almost always impeccable, but…I'm willing to be you've missed out on a lot because you were too busy looking at the small things. Take a breath. Don't get wrapped up – I'm betting that's what this A person wants you to do anyway – and we'll get through this. Okay?"_

_ "Okay." Spencer nodded after a long moment. "Sorry, I…I've found myself forgetting lately that you're my teacher and you know these things about me." She watched as an indescribable expression crossed Kyle's features. If they hadn't stopped at the coffee shop at that moment, she would have asked, but as soon as the car came to a stop, actually, not even, she as sprinting across the parking lot. She could hear Kyle's sneakers crashing against the ground from a ways behind her, but she didn't pause for her, instead pushing open the door so violently that the bell didn't stop ringing for a good thirty seconds._

_ Her eyes landed on a laptop set up in the corner closest to the entrance, the screen covered by a sheet of paper with 'Spencer' written on it in big block letters. She froze for a second as the fear crept up on her, suddenly, a feeling of dread suddenly overwhelming her. This couldn't mean anything good – for her, or for Hanna._

_ Trembling, she sat down, flinching only slightly as she felt Kyle's hands on her shoulders, lifting up the piece of paper, uncovering the screen. It was a generic laptop, and the home screen was bare except for basic icons, and one on the taskbar that was already open – Skype. _

_ "Call me." Spencer glanced back as Kyle whispered, confused until she pointed it out – the only contact on the list to the side was 'CALL ME.' Taking a deep breath, swallowing hard, she clicked it, relaxing only slightly as Kyle sat down across from her, giving her a reassuring look. The Skype sound rang out only twice, before the call picked up and Spencer let out a breath she didn't know she'd been holding._

_ …that was, until the video flickered on, and there was A, in all their black hooded, masked infamy, and in full view behind them, Hanna fighting against the bonds that tied her to a exposed metal pipe, her expression nothing less than terrified._

* * *

><p>It hurt, she realized as she laid there in darkness she was too weak to fight through. For a moment, she wondered if it would be easier to just give up and lay there and let it all win. She stretched, even though she was only barely aware of where her limbs were – she only knew because of the dim radius of pain that rippled through her with the movement. She could hear faint voices, but not closely enough to tell who they were. They were muffled and warped, like they were talking underwater, or like that one time when Aria's brother accidentally set off a firecracker near her head and she lost her hearing for the rest of the night. She could recognize one garbled sound as her name being said, and nothing else, which led her to worry about what exactly they were saying.<p>

Yes, she knew that would be easier to just give up in the long run, but she also knew it took much more than some aching and unconsciousness to defeat her. She was Hanna Marin, after all, the girl who could come through a crisis like a car crash and still look fabulous.

Still, she admitted to herself, in secret, that it was tempting. With all of the drama that had gone on, condensed in the past few weeks, one thing after another, unending intensity, endless opportunities for pain and jealousy, which only brought more pain. Just lying in nothingness was a welcome breather from all of that. To an extent, she had meant what she'd said to Spencer mere hours before – that they weren't meant to be.

But even in her half transient state, the words tugged at Hanna's heartstrings. (Even though Spencer had once told her that there wasn't such a thing as heartstrings, and it was just an expression. She did that a lot, and if she wasn't so cute when she was doing it, it would have pissed her off.) It remained that there was a literal pain in her chest as she thought about what had happened and what she'd said. It wasn't that difficult of a conclusion to come to, really. Every twist and turn in their relationship had been pockmarked (another Spencer word) by something difficult or painful. It wasn't anyone's fault, really – the fault had been fairly well equalized by this point – and the only person she could reasonably blame was A, and that was hard, because A was more like a big, scary, dark cloud dressed in a black hoodie more than a person. So the blame went unplaced, leaving her feeling…incomplete. Even if it was hard, even if they weren't meant to be, why was there such a big hole in her chest? Why did the thought of losing her – even though she'd last her more than once before – wear such a huge, empty hole in her chest?

The answer was obvious, but she didn't want to think about it. Not now, at least, not when she was floating around like a fairy lost in a forest of black construction paper and licorice, with no tether or sense of reality or gravity. An axis, Spencer had once called it, when she was trying to do physics homework and Hanna hadn't wanted any of that. As she was holding her later, she had whispered, just as she was falling asleep – and Spencer had probably thought she was sleeping, now that she was thinking about it – that Hanna was her axis. (She still didn't quite understand what that meant, only that it was good, and that it was kind of hot when Spencer went all scientist on her.)

All in all, Hanna supposed, she didn't know how she felt anymore. Even if it hurt, she was pretty sure it would be better for her and Spencer in multiple ways if they stayed away from each other – after all, look at what had just happened. A frisson of terror skittered through the baseless darkness as she recalled, for a brief moment, the events that had taken place. She had no desire to go through that ever again, and she didn't want Spencer to ever feel that tortured ever again, or see her so mired in self-loathing that it was painful to look at her. (Mostly because she knew that the self-loathing was in part her fault, and God, she hated causing Spencer pain.)

But even in her dampened, dark state, she could still feel the entire sharpness of their relationship like a sunburst, cutting through the thickness that kept her from coming to. It was the only bright spot in the past couple of years, actually, and she couldn't help but want that back, even if it was bad for her, bad for Spencer. Even though there was a lot of bad, there was a lot of good, too. The night where Spencer climbed through her window to hold her after a bad dream. The way she was could play her body like a virtuoso musician, knowing instinctively every little quirk she had. The surprise of coffee in the morning, the quick kisses behind lockers, in cars, in the backs of empty classrooms, all when no one was looking. The certain smile Hanna knew was reserved only for her. The way she tasted, like peppermint gum and coffee, which was totally weird in concept but worked, somehow. The way she could fit into her side just right when they slept.

Could she stand to lose any of that?

The words were sharper now, and the sound of her mother's voice cut through fairly well, giving her an opening to grab and use to rip the cocoon open. Her eyes flickered, and suddenly she felt real again, in a room that was very white and sterile, hands clutching at the edges of some dense hospital mattress that was little more than a giant block of foam. "Mom?" Her voice was raspy, from screaming, and then from little use.

"Hanna." Ashley dropped down beside her, her features inscrutable, but worried. "Are you okay? How do you feel?"

"I…" It hurt much more now that she was out of that dark matrix, everything much more sharp and real. She struggled to sit up, eventually giving up, looking up at her mom. "It hurts." She said weakly, feeling the thick bandages covering her forearms and most of her left thigh. "Oh God, these aren't going to scar, are they?" Panic gripped her for a second. She didn't want to be constantly reminded of the past few hours every time she touched or looked at her own skin. (And it wasn't all that attractive, either.)

"No, no…" Hanna relaxed slightly, letting Ashley place the cool back of her hand against her forehead. "They're only second degree. They'll heal right up, don't worry, the cuts too. Your head is in a bit worse shape, but once I let them know how hard-headed you are, they reassured me that you would probably be just fine.

Hanna managed a weak laugh, stretching a little, wincing as the fabric brushed against some more minor burns that weren't dressed. "At least it wasn't a car this time." She said softly. "When can I go home?"

"Probably tomorrow." Ashley replied, sitting down next to her bed. "Hanna, there's – "

"Is Spencer here?" She blurted out, unable to hold it back any longer, the desire to know overwhelming. If she had stayed, if she had waited, then maybe there was still a chance. That was all she needed to know in that moment – if Spencer had stayed, she wouldn't be so afraid to take the leap and try again. "I just…you know, because she tried to save my life and all."  
>"Hanna." Ashley said firmly. "Before I…I just wanted to let you know that I love you no matter what, okay?"<p>

The phrase struck Hanna as odd, but she figured it was probably weird emotions that mothers got when their kids were hurt. "Uh, okay?" She offered up. "Is Spencer here?" She repeated, trying to sit up again.

"She's right over there." Ashley said, pushing her down, pointing with another hand across the room. Hanna turned her head to see Spencer curled up on the window seat, hands crumpled under her face as she slept soundly. It was the only time she'd ever seen her so calm, so peaceful, even in sleep, and Hanna couldn't help but gaze at her for a moment, trying to memorize how she looked in stillness, wrapped up in an oversized, colorful poncho, with her hair falling in her face, and her dark eyelashes, framing her eyes, looking almost angelic. "They had to sedate her, so it might be awhile before you two can talk." She paused, looking like she wanted to say something more for a moment, before the expression cleared. "I need a caffeine fix, and you need your rest, so I'll leave you alone, okay?"

Hanna nodded. As much as she wanted to talk to Spencer that instant, there was an overwhelming sense of tiredness that came with her injuries that she couldn't ignore. Her eyes already ached to stay open, and she couldn't even sit up. "Okay, mom." She said gently as she left, turning over to glance at Spencer one last time before closing her eyes, hoping to dream of her.

And dream of her, Hanna did.

* * *

><p><em> Spencer almost yelped. Almost jumped. Almost made a scene. But in the split second where there were still other possibilities, A held up a sign. 'Don't make a scene, or I burn it to the ground.' The sign with scrawled in block letters that Spencer couldn't recognize, and with a panicked look shot at Kyle – who had silently agreed to stay out of frame, she nodded.<em>

_ 'What do you want?' Her fingers trembled as she typed, her eyes not even looking at the keyboard as she stared at Hanna, who stared right back. The blonde kept shaking her head, but for what reason, Spencer couldn't tell. Or, at least, was too emotional to discern. All she could think about was untying those ropes and holding her until she stopped looking so frightened. It was a gut-wrenching, literal pain in her stomach, to see her look so scared. Knowing that it was mostly her fault didn't make it worse – it already hurt so much that it didn't matter whose fault it was or why it was happening. She just needed her to be safe._

_ 'Hanna makes it out of this alive – probably – no matter what.' A typed back, now hidden from view. There were no cues in the background as to where they could be – A was only illuminated by the computer screen most of the time, and Hanna was cast into the foreground by what looked like an LED light of some sort, making it all the more eerie with the blue tint. There was nothing. Spencer – and Hanna – were both helpless. 'As to whether she'll make it out uninjured, that's your choice. Check the e-mail.'_

_ Spencer did as she was asked, stomach churning. What did that mean? What sick, twisted thing was she going to have to do? Reveal Aria and Ezra? Tell the cops about Hanna's mom's unauthorized borrowing from a few months back? The options began to pile up in the back of her head, screaming at her, making it so she couldn't focus for a second, her breath sticking in her chest like she'd swallowed a softball. Her ears were filled with the rapid swishing sound of her own heartbeat, and her fingertips left swipes of sweat on the keys as she broke out into a cold sweat. God, she couldn't do this._

_ She was only jolted back to reality as Kyle leaned forward, touching her leg beneath the table, and then grabbing her wrist as she removed the hand from the keyboard, startled by the touch. She glanced up to see her silently mouth the words 'You can do it.' The words were hollow to her in her state, but the idea of Kyle's belief in her was just enough to push her back over the threshold. Taking as deep a breath as she could manage, she found only one thing stored on the email account – an unsent message in the drafts, addressed to a multitude of e-mail addresses, too many to go through, although she did recognize the ones of classmates and her parents on first glance, which only served to make her more nervous._

_ The obvious question of what the message entailed was answered a second later. A short, snarky worded a la Gossip Girl was first. 'The love that dare not speak its name is shouting it out loud now. Looks like little miss perfect herself, Spencer Hastings, has a thing for cherry chapstick. Who knew? (Well, you all do now.)' It was followed by a series of pictures of her and Hanna kissing. The increasingly private nature of these pictures only served to make her more and more sick to her stomach as she scrolled. Private moments, all of them, taken through a window, or otherwise questionably obtained. Them kissing, them doing more than kissing, pictures of them when Hanna confessed she might be pregnant, shots of Spencer climbing the lattice and through the window. Their numerous encounters in her car, almost a full on photo documentation of their two dates in Philly, Hanna dropping through the window in her basement the night she'd broken up with her and started this whole sick cycle. Seeing everything play out in pictures before her was dizzying, and sickening as she realized they'd been watched the entire time, no matter how secret they kept it. This was an all-new degree of perversion, and it was all she could do to keep from throwing up right then and there._

_ "You want me to send this?" She hissed, too angry and sick to type, her voice breaking. "This…this could ruin both of our lives." It could. She couldn't even begin to contemplate how much more hellish her life would become if this got back to her parents. They had once made it clear, in no uncertain terms, that a same sex relationship was on the list of things that would tarnish their reputation, and thus her place in their family. The idea of conversion therapy was even worse. And while she knew that Ashley really could care less about the gender of her daughter's significant other, things were still touchy with her father, and not to mention the scrutiny she'd end up facing out in public and at school. That could potentially do more damage to Hanna than losing the last shred of her parents' love could ever do to her – it wasn't like she hadn't seen it coming anyway. "There's got to be another way. Something else. I will do anything else, please just don't do this."_

_ A shook like they were laughing, and Spencer's stomach sank. On the one hand, she had known there was no bargaining with A – there never had been. But part of her couldn't help but hope, just a little, that she could stop this, somehow. 'You know it's not that easy.' A typed. 'You're smarter than that, Spencer. Send the e-mail as is, or this place gets sent up in flames, and it'll be a lot harder to get Hanna out of here safely.'_

_ Spencer swallowed had, gazing at Hanna, who she couldn't hear, but could see her, protesting and shaking her head and pulling the restraints as hard as she could. 'Don't.' She could see her mouthing. 'It's not worth it.' But it was, wasn't it? So there was some scrutiny, but at this point, she hated her parents anyway, and she wanted nothing more than to be able to run up to her girlfriend and kiss her in public – if she still had any interest in being her girlfriend after this. But, most of all, she needed Hanna to be safe. For her not to be scared. For her to never be in danger ever again._

_ She didn't even hold her breath as she clicked 'send.' It was a no brainer really. "Done." She said, her voice almost cold in the strength of her decision. "Where is she?"_

_ 'Not far.' A typed, and as the little insignia to indicate that they were still typing appeared, Spencer suddenly got a very cold feeling in her stomach, dread rising up in her throat as she realized something very bad was about to happen, that this was far from over, and therefore, Hanna was far from safe. 'I'll make it easy for you by turning on the light.' The light flickered on, just as promised, but before Spencer could react and analyze the contents of the basement or wherever they were, she saw the match in A's hand, barely stifling a cry as they dropped it, realizing a split second that the room was damp with something that could only be gasoline. _

_ She stared in horror as the room suddenly lit up in flames – nowhere close to Hanna, not yet, but still, she could see the smoke rising on the air, and the sheer terror illuminated in Hanna's eyes. 'TTYL xx' A typed, and disappeared by climbing out the window, but Spencer barely saw, searching the room for something, anything to indicate where she was. So focused as she that she almost shoved away Kyle's hand as it was placed on her shoulder. "_What?!"_ She snapped, instantly reproachful as Kyle pointed out the plate glass window and down the street where, sure enough, there was a rapidly rising orange glow from the basement windows of one of the old buildings._

_ It wasn't until she heard the bell to the door ringing that she realized she'd left the coffee shop, and by the time that hit her, she was already halfway there. Taking a second to be grateful that she'd worn sensible shoes that morning, she sprinted towards the building, hating that it wasn't field hockey season and she wasn't in shape. She could hear Kyle shouting behind her, but she couldn't even fathom stopping._

_ It was like she was in superhuman mode or something. Spencer did it all without thinking, without second guessing. Skidding to a stop at the side of the building, with Kyle still playing catch up, she grabbed an exposed pipe, hauled herself up, and with the momentum, kicked out one of the basement windows and tumbled into the smoky room. She landed on something soft that wasn't on fire yet, rolling off of it, yelping and patting out her sleeve as a spark jumped onto it. "Hanna?!" She called out, her throat already going scratchy as she choked on the smoke, her eyes watering and burning as she searched the room in vain for her. "Hanna?!"_

_ She heard a faint, indiscernible noise from across the room, and immediately began scrambling over the boxes and things in her way. She finally came to the corner of the room where Hanna had managed to knock over her chair, putting her head down near the floor where there was less smoke and it was easier to breathe. "Oh, baby, that was so smart…" She couldn't help but gasp as she sank to her knees, untying her bonds as quickly as she could, shoving her face in her sweatshirt to keep the acrid smoke from further damaging her throat and lungs. "Are you okay?"_

_ "I think that's kind of a stupid question, Spencer!" Hanna called out, finally wriggling free of the chair and ropes. "…but yes, I think so." She coughed, burying her face in her arm for a moment. "…the stairs are that way, come on." She pointed to the corner near the window Spencer had smashed in through. "I think so, I can't see…"_

_ "We'll find out!" Spencer called back, determinedly charging forward over the myriad of things, focused on getting them both out of there, not hearing Hanna as she called her name._

_ At least, not until she felt her hands square on her back, shoving her forward, just as a flaming beam came crashing down behind her._

_ "Hanna!" The scream was torn from her throat with little regard to what the smoke would do to it. The flames were leaping high and the debris was cluttering the air, and the smoke was so thick that she couldn't see three inches beyond her own nose, let alone see if Hanna was okay. So she screamed for her, even as she heard nothing, screamed until the firm arms of the fireman closed around her waist and carried her out. She didn't stop screaming until the oxygen mask was placed to her face and Kyle's arms were around her shoulders. She didn't look as she heard the stretcher approach the ambulance, because she didn't want that to be her last image of Hanna, covered up by a body bag, something she'd seen far too often for a girl her age. _

_ Spencer didn't open her eyes until she was prompted to by a medic, who shined a bright flashlight in them before telling her that she was good to go. She didn't hear him, really, looking past him to the other ambulance, catching a glimpse of blonde hair – not covered by a sheet or a body bag – a split second before they shut the doors and drove away, alarms squealing._

_ When she began to cry, it was out of relief._

* * *

><p>Spencer woke up about five minutes after Ashley left, her eyes burning with exhaustion and the remnants of the smoke. It didn't help them to look at Hanna, though, all bandaged and small in the hospital bed, the monitors beeping along faintly, the IV line in her arm. Her stomach wrenched a little as she watched her – she couldn't help but blame herself a little for this. If she'd been faster, or smarter, or less crippled by her emotions, she could have gotten her out of there faster. Saved her from this.<p>

Or maybe if she hadn't fucked up and kissed Toby and slept with Sage in the first place. Then she wouldn't have been in that sick situation at all.

At this point she couldn't even tell what she was at fault for from what was undeserved blame she put on herself to make things easier. It was easy to believe that it was all her fault, but that fact alone – since she knew, from a logical standpoint, that it really couldn't be all her fault – scared her. Had she really gotten so warped in her perception of herself and people that it had come to this? Taking all of the pain of a situation onto herself, merely to ease the suffering of others, and actually coming to believe it?

She put a hand to her aching head, taking as deep a breath she could muster, before righting herself on the window seat, sliding off of it to cross over to Hanna, snagging the chart off the end of her bed. It had all been a haze of panicking and struggling to breathe, and she hadn't managed to catch exactly what had happened to Hanna, although she could begin to surmise.

Her dark eyes scanned the chart. Second degree burns over a lot of her body, cuts, lacerations, minor head trauma…she held her breath, looking for a catch, something, anything to ruin the temporary peace that had fallen over them. Once, twice, three times over the chart, and it wasn't there. The worst, for once, hadn't actually befallen them.

Small, damp circles appeared on the paper in her hands, and it took her a second to realize she was crying. She set the chart down, burying her face in her hands, shuddering. But it wasn't a bad kind of crying, as she realized after a moment. It was exertion crying, it was relief crying, it was happiness crying. For one single moment since this whole thing had started, nothing was wrong. Sure, there were things coming, the questions about how Hanna had ended up there, and the ramifications of that e-mail, what her parents would say, but for now…none of that mattered. Hanna was safe, if a little battle-scarred. A was nowhere to be found, for the moment. The only interruptions in the stillness were the quiet sounds of Hanna's monitor, and her own soft sobs, muffled by the sleeves of Kyle's poncho.

"Are you alright?" She turned at the now extremely familiar voice, wiping her eyes before she laid eyes on Kyle, who looked alarmed at the sight of her tears. But more than that. She looked exhausted, and world weary – more so than usual. That didn't stop her from running forward and throwing her arms around her.

"Thank you so much." She gasped, burying her face in Kyle's neck, unable to ignore the cinnamon and raw wood scent she'd become so accustomed to over the past several hours. "I…thank you." She felt Kyle's arms finally close around her, in a tight grip that was almost too tight to be comfortable – but only almost. "I don't know what I would have done without you." She pulled away, looking down at her. Once again, there was that inscrutable look on her features. For a second, she wondered what was going through her head…what sort of effect this had all had on her. It couldn't have been easy, having to usher a tortured student around all evening only to watch her almost die. "Really, you were…invaluable."

"Any time." Kyle said, with a small smile, nodding once. "Anything for you, Spencer." She added, before clearing her throat. "Anyway, I'm…exhausted, I'm going to go home. I just wanted to drop off your bag." She set the messenger bag on the floor. "Call me if you need anything, okay? I mean that."

"I will." Spencer promised, feeling like she was forgetting something. "Oh, wait, your sweatshirt." She started to pull it off, only to be stopped by Kyle's cool hand suddenly laying on her wrist.

"Keep it." She said, with the same small smile. "You look cold, Spencer. Just…give it back to me whenever. You know where to find me." She patted her hand before disappearing down the hallway without another word, which Spencer thought was odd, but not worthy of much scrutiny. With another glance at Hanna, who was still fast asleep, she sank down into the armchair next to her bed, losing herself in her physics book. It might have seemed odd to anyone else who had just gone through what she had, but to her, it made perfect sense to bury herself in logic and numbers. After everything that had just happened, and everything that was about to happen…she needed something concrete, something that would always work out to the same answer every time. Something she could count on.

"Spencer?" The weak, sleep-worn voice almost went unnoticed as she trace the long lines of miniscule text with her eyes. But she did notice, and her gaze flicked up to meet Hanna's. It took her a second to register what was happening, that she was awake, but when it finally did, Spencer was down on her knees by the bed in a second.

"God, Hanna…" She whispered, reaching out for her hand, avoiding the bandages. She laced their fingers, cupping the back of her hand with her other hand, pulling it close to her chest. "Hanna…"

"Is that all you have to say?" She asked, turning towards her slightly, wincing as she put weight on her burns, but gripping Spencer's hand, gazing right back at her. "…you stayed."

"Of course I did." Spencer said softly, moving as close to the bed as she could. "Why wouldn't I? Hanna…you probably saved my life with what you did. Which, by the way, don't you ever do anything that stupid ever again." She unconsciously brought her hand to her lips, holding it there, not taking her eyes off of her. "You hear me?"

"Protecting you will never be stupid." Hanna whispered, smiling a little as she looked up at her. "Even if I have to deal with gross burn scars and seeing double occasionally, it'll still be the smartest thing I've ever done…not that it has much competition." She added quickly, as if to cover up how emotional the statement was getting. Spencer didn't blame her, really…even she was confused as to where they stood, but didn't want to be the first to ask.

"You're a genius Hanna. In your own way." Spencer assured her, pausing to look at her, really look at her. Her blue eyes were half open, and her cheeks were red and dry from being exposed to the heat of the fire. Her blonde hair fanned out behind her head on the pillow, still streaked with ash, and smelling of smoke, but it wasn't unpleasant. Nothing about her was. Even in the most unpleasant place, in the most unpleasant of situations, Hanna looked like an angel. A fallen one, perhaps, one that had gone through literal hell, but an angel nonetheless. Porcelain and perfect and delicate on the outside, and on the inside, in some and many ways. But Hanna was also the strongest person she knew. She was a fighter. As much as people perceived her to be strong and brave and all of that, she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that Hanna was more than she was, would always be more than she was. "So I guess I should thank you." She said, after that moment spent looking at her. "Even if I think it was reckless."

"You're welcome." Hanna said, with a bit of a smile, eyes focused on Spencer. For a moment, she had to look away, overwhelmed. Her adrenaline, and then the sedative, had kept her emotions at bay, but they were slowly beginning to trickle back in. The crippling uncertainty about where she stood with Hanna didn't help, either.

"I just don't want to lose you." She finally said, lifting her eyes to meet Hanna's again. "In any way. I don't care if that means I have to just be your friend from now on, or just…check in on you occasionally, if that's what you want. I was terrified when I couldn't find you, or hear you. I was so scared that you…you had…" She trailed off, unable to finish the sentence, unable to comprehend that idea. "I love you, Hanna. I do. I don't think I'll ever stop. But if you need me to keep my distance from now on, I will do just that." Even if it kills me to do so, she added silently. And it would. But the idea of losing her forever was much more painful than that. So she could handle it – after all, she'd already lived through the worst.

"…what's an axis?" Hanna asked suddenly.

Spencer was thrown, and for a brief second, a little offended that her heartfelt speech had gone unheard, or disregarded. "I…it's the line around which a body rotates." She said, spitting out the technical definition. "Why?"

Hanna looked lost. "So what did you mean when you called me your axis?" She asked. For a split second, Spencer was convinced she had lost it until the memory struck her suddenly.

"I…"She had been half asleep, so the details were fuzzy, but the sentiment, she realized, was very true. "It means you're the thing that grounds me." She said, as she let go of Hanna's hand. "You…you're the one thing I revolve around, you're the basis…of everything in my life. When you're not there to hold me to reality, I lose it. I go spinning off, out of control, into open space where nothing can stop me. You're my past, and my present, and my future, in whatever capacity you want to be in it. As long as I have you to guide me, keep me strong, keep me safe…I'll keep going. I'll keep going. What I meant when I said that was...that you're everything. To me, you're everything. I don't have anything, if I don't have you."

She wasn't expecting the kiss. Hanna reached up and pulled her down so quickly that she didn't know what had hit her. But she fell right into it anyway, reveling in the familiar but electrifying feel of her lips on hers. Spencer raised a trembling hand to cup her cheek, careful of the burns, but yearning to have her closer, to make up for all of the time they'd been without one another. It had seemed like such a waste before, but now, as she kissed her, she realized it had all been a sick sort of necessary – losing her so many times had made her realize just how much she needed her, how much she couldn't lose her again. It would make them stronger together, and perhaps even stronger individually, but she could only hope that it wouldn't be necessary.

Hanna's first, true 'I love you' came whispered between kisses, and Spencer felt as if her heart would burst. As long as she had Hanna there, the rain could pour, and the wind would howl, and none of it would matter. Even though, at that very moment, her parents were quite possibly planning to disown her and everyone was digging into their private lives, and A was off planning another horrible scheme to bring them all down, it didn't matter.

None of it would ever matter, because as long as she had Hanna, her world would always keep spinning.

* * *

><p>AN: AM I FORGIVEN NOW?

Haha, but in all seriousness, I really hope you guys enjoyed reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. This is the first ever fanfiction that I have followed through to the end since I started writing it when I was thirteen years old. So yeah, I'm pretty ridiculously proud of myself right now.

Also, it's not over yet! There's an epilogue coming~ plus a sequel. If you don't follow my tumblr, the name of it is 'Hourglass,' and while I hope to finish up some short pieces before I start working on that, that should be coming soon.

Seriously, a big thank you to everyone who stuck with me over the past year. Whether you followed it from the beginning, or jumped in in the middle, or if this is your first time reading it, I love you. I love you all so much. Thanks for all of the kind words - and some not so kind ones, but I deserved those. Vive la Spanna!


	11. Epilogue: Hourglass

The drive from New York to Rosewood was only about three hours, but it felt much shorter than that to Spencer Hastings. She suspected it was her healthy sense of dread that was making the time go faster, the scenery brushing past the windows of her cherry red Mazda at an alarming rate. The dread had been mounting ever since she received the gilded invitation in the mail two months prior. She could still feel the heavy cardstock in her hands, the raised lettering so proudly and mockingly proclaiming that the 10 year reunion of the Rosewood High Class of 2012 was fast approaching. She still wasn't sure why she was going, to be quite honest – she'd sworn never to return to that town as long as she lived. (Well, perhaps that declaration had been a bit melodramatic, but it wasn't entirely undeserved.) And indeed, as she drew closer and closer to her destination, she felt sicker and sicker, her dread spreading through her like a virus and settling in her stomach like concrete, dense and solid. It was pushing things out of whack, and she hated it, hated feeling unbalanced. Rosewood would only make it worse, and at this point in her life, going back was the very last thing she needed to do.

But there she was, on the interstate, heading back anyway. Either she was stupid or she had a deep seeded sense of self-loathing. (She had graduated at the top of her class, but the other option wasn't something she was willing to accept yet, even if it was common sense.) There were a multitude of reasons that she'd left Rosewood in the first place, the same multitude that had kept her from coming returning. Spencer just wasn't sure when she'd learned to disregard them. They, these reasons and memories, once visited her in her nightmares, and during the day, but only as of late. It was always at the most unexpected of times too. The torments, the heartbreaks, the tragedies, they had evolved from mere memories into ghosts with their own free will, able to invade her consciousness at any time they wished. At times, Spencer was convinced she was losing it, but then she remembered that she had every reason to, and she didn't feel so bad about it. No one would blame her. No one would find it outside of reason. No one would deny her an inevitable breakdown. Most of all, no one would even dream that she'd return.

But at this point, she was used to doing things against the approval of others. And if everyone wanted her to shrivel up into herself and fade away, she wouldn't. If they wanted her to hide with her tail between her legs back in New York, she wouldn't. Anyone else would say this was a sign that she'd already lost it, and hell, maybe she had. But she didn't pay any mind to that any more. She had never really been her own person, she knew that now. Every action she'd ever taken had always been prompted or motivated by someone else – approval, either way, didn't matter.

So why fight it now?

* * *

><p>Spencer had just slipped out of her car when the loud exclamation of "Aunt Spencer!" echoed from somewhere close by. She had no time to gain her balance before Taylor – nine years old, and incredibly sturdy, apparently – slammed into her chest, knocking the wind out of her and almost taking the both of them down. She managed to brace herself against the car in time, however, before wrapping her arms around the girl, feeling a rare, genuine smile being pulled from her.<p>

"God, when did you get so big?" God, when did I start sounding like my mother? Spencer ignored the mocking voice in her head as she pulled Taylor back to look at her. She looked like Ian, there was no denying it, with the same grin – a little gap toothed, but it was cute – and the same freckles and the same eyes. But there was enough of the Hastings genes in her that, if she looked hard enough, she saw herself at the same age – and not just in her features either. Her tenacity, her enthusiasm, her drive…it all spoke of a younger Spencer, before all of those qualities had compounded on her and crushed her. Looking at Taylor made her hopeful, and yet, also hopeless, for she realized how long her demise had been set in motion. "Ugh, stop growing why don't you?"

Taylor giggled, releasing Spencer entirely, bounding back. "Mom says I'm gonna be as tall as she is in the next couple of years." She said, grabbing her wrist and pulling her forward towards the house. (At the sight of it, he'd had to resist the urge to dig her heels in, but she couldn't ever refuse her niece.) "Everyone's waiting for you, c'mon."

"…everyone?" Spencer asked, trying to keep the devastation out of her tone. "Kiddo, I didn't even know you and your parents and your brothers were going to be here, I – "

"Oh, Daddy's not here, it's just me and mom." She said. "He stayed back in Washington with Todd and Peter." Spencer breathed a sigh of relief. Her ban on Rosewood hadn't included Melissa and her family, not since she'd moved to Washington D.C. with her husband, Todd Haverford Sr., who was the most overbearing, offensive man she'd ever met. Her recent distance from that section of her family had been mostly due to him, and his tendency to offend and undermine every single part of her identity within the first five minutes of any given conversation. But still, Melissa was her sister, one of the only relatives to stick by her, and she did only see them about three times a year in the first place anyway, so she kept her mouth shut. No need to wreck yet another one of Melissa's relationships. (Although those really hadn't been her fault in the first place.)

Even so, she couldn't help but worry about Taylor, worry about what growing up in a home like that would do to such a progressive, precocious child. (She knew what had happened to her, and she'd be damned if it happened to her niece.) "Well, good. We'll have to have some girl time with you, me and your mom while I'm here." She ruffled Taylor's light brown hair, almost tripping as Taylor suddenly jerked her forward again. "O-okay, I'm going."

The first thing she saw as she entered the kitchen was the cake. Not a fancy, flawless cake from the bakery in Philly that her parents frequented, but an rectangular cake baked in a glass cake pan that was cloudy from too many years of use, frosted by what looked like a left handed two year old trying to prove to his mother that he was a righty, no matter what she said. She was so focused on the sheer novelty of that kind of cake in her parents' spic and span kitchen that the words written on it – sloppily and in frosting – didn't register, nor did the banner hanging above or the same words printed on it. (Much more carefully than the cake, as she later realized.) "We wanted to surprise you! Nana and Papa said you haven't home in _forever._" The dramatic emphasis Taylor put on the word almost made her laugh, because ten years was hardly forever, and she had just spent the better part of the drive thinking that it wasn't nearly enough.

"That's…very sweet of you, Taylor." She said, with a tightlipped smile as she glanced at the other members of her family that were present, all with varying looks of expectancy and worry on their features, like they were worried she was going to snap at them, or snap in general. Melissa looked the least worried – she knew she was in good standing with Spencer, but also knew that Spencer wasn't in good standing with herself. Her mother who, except for a few lines around her eyes and mouth, didn't look a day older than she had the last time she'd seen her. "Thank you." She added to her earlier statement before considering her father, slightly curled up in age, hair now fully grey, skin weathered. The muscles in his arm were clearly rigid as he leaned against to the counter – behind him, she spotted a cane, almost laughing a little. His vanity hadn't changed with age, that much was clear. It made him both more intimidating and less intimidating, more in that he looked every inch the strict family patriarch he'd always been groomed to be, and less in that he seemed…weaker. Beyond his stern appearance, there was very little actual sternness, less ice. A bit of longing, really, and it was no secret to her as to what, and the idea made her feel sick to her stomach.

How dare he want absolution for all he had done to her?

There was a long moment of silence before, all at once, they began to talk, the cacophony of their voices drowning out their words. Finally, her mother surged forward, wrapping her in a hug that was so tight and affectionate, she was sure she was getting hives. "We're just so glad you're home!" She gasped, as though breathing a sigh of relief. For an instant, Spencer could see it from her side, the prodigal daughter returning after ten years, a mother's worry becoming infused in every part of her life, only to finally be assuaged. It almost made sense to her, until she remembered that this worry, this concern, was given far too late.

"Hi mom…" She said softly, awkwardly wrapping her arms around her mother, squeezing her with just the barest amount of force that would constitute a hug. She pulled away after only a brief moment of this, fighting the urge to shudder as she looked at her full on. She did appear a bit older up close, which didn't make her feel guilty, or sad or anything it would do to some children with better parents than her. Instead, she realized with a rush of morbidity, she was relieved to see that fracturing in her mother, the aging that made her seem much more human. "I can't stay too long, just for cake or whatever, and then I have to check into the hotel."

"Hotel?" Veronica asked, holding her by the shoulders as Melissa helped Taylor cut the cake. "But we have the barn all set up for you, and you'll be much more comfortable there than in a hotel room for two weeks…"

"No, I won't actually." Spencer leaned in close, lowering her voice for Taylor's sake. "This is the last place in the world I want to be right now. And I will be damned if I have to spend another minute here more than necessary. Just because I'm home doesn't mean I've forgiven you. And it sure as hell doesn't mean I've forgotten either."

She looked away before she could see the inevitable look on her face – she didn't deserve to feel guilty for that. Every word of it was true, and every bit of her mother's pain was deserved. "Alright then. At least stay for cake, Taylor worked very hard on it."

"And I appreciate it." Spencer said, putting on a smile as she ruffled Taylor's hair again. "Thanks, kiddo. That was really nice of you. Do you think I could take some of that back to the hotel with me?" Taylor's vigorous nodding drew a genuine smile from her. "You're a good kid." She hugged her quickly from behind.

"Spencer, there's something waiting for you out in the living room." Melissa said over her shoulder, not straying from Taylor's side as she tried to cut the cake evenly. "Go on and get it."

"Alright…" Spencer said, swallowing hard as she met Melissa's gaze, her stomach lurching as all of her red flags went up. She knew this was part of a scheme – her family had never been that subtle, even at their subtlest. But Melissa wasn't lying…there was a long, slim box addressed to her sitting on the coffee table. She had just picked it up when she heard a sound behind her, turning quickly. "…Dad." She said, upon lying eyes on the older man, who had adopted his cane to move out into the living room.

"Spencer." His voice hadn't changed. The same solid, strict tone was still there, and somewhere inside of her, she was suddenly a small, eight year old girl, sitting on the beach and shivering after having almost drowned and getting a stern lecture. "It's really, really good to see you."

"I…I wish I could say the same." She said, her voice wavering. God, she was still so intimidated by him, she couldn't even stand up to him in the way he deserved, in the way she deserved to do.

"Spencer, haven't we gotten past all that?" Peter asked, and she wasn't sure what it was about his tone, so presumptuous, so confident that this was the case that she just snapped.

"All _that?_" Spencer said sharply. "I'm sorry, did your brain get stolen by the body snatchers, who replaced it with an alien who can't read your memories? Do you honestly think you can get away with a vague apology and…and a massive show of brushing it under the rug? I have tried for years, _years,_ Dad, to get over everything you have ever done to me. And look at me! I'm still a huge fucking mess, and while that may be partially my fault, we all know where I learned how to be dysfunctional from. No, I am _not_ over all _that._ And I am insulted, and in fact, worried about you and your intelligence that you can just reduce it into nothing like that. This is my life, Dad. I'm not a statistic or someone on a Lifetime movie. This is my life. I am your irreparable mistake. And if you think you can just argue your way out of me, you are very, very wrong." With the box in hand, and tears in her eyes, she pushed past her father before he could say a word, no longer interested in staying a second longer. "Hey kiddo?" She said, taking a deep breath, ignoring the looks of her mother and sister, who moved out of the room to check on their father, she assumed. "I have to go, but I promise, we'll hang out before you go back to DC okay?"

Taylor frowned, but Spencer hadn't really been expecting to hide her emotions from her – she was unusually perceptive. "Alright…" She said, leaping forward, wrapping her arms around Spencer's neck as she hugged her tightly. "I miss you though."

"I miss you too, Taylor." Spencer sighed, hugging her back. "But I can't stay here."

* * *

><p>The words 'borderline alcoholic' had been tossed at her a few times back in New York, but it had never really resonated until she drove past the Grille on the way back to the hotel, and found herself craving a drink. Yet another thing to add to her laundry list of emotional malfunctions, but by the time she had finished her third whiskey, she didn't much care about that. All she cared about was trying to forget that her father was the man that he was, and that she couldn't escape that legacy.<p>

"Well, well, well…I didn't believe my ears when Parker called me, but look at you." Spencer turned, the drink almost falling out of her hand as she locked eyes with Toby Cavanaugh, her ex-flame. He looked just as good as ever, from a purely visual standpoint. His eyes were still the same vibrant blue, although a little less intense since his youth, and her youth, had started fleeing. He looked as well built as he had the last time she'd seen him, a chance meeting in New York, to secure a marriage license for him and his then-fiancé, Parker. (This turn of events had surprised her, but then again, life had hardly turned out the way she'd expected it. This was just another surprise, and a welcome one at that.) He was clean shaven, his hair neat…he looked every inch the respectable business man Spencer knew he hadn't been years ago, and she could only look at him with a strange sort of smile on her face. "Can you tell the flying pig to make another pass by the window? I seem to have missed it."

"Oh, shut up." She hugged him, sighing as she felt the same warm sense of safety flood through her at his embrace. If she closed her eyes, it was ten years earlier, and things were so much simpler. He even smelled the same, God. "I missed you."

"I'm guessing I'm about one of five people in this town that you can say that to." Toby said, finally releasing her after a moment, hands on her shoulders. "You look great."

"Yeah, right, I look like shit. You don't have to lie to spare my feelings." Spencer said, turning slightly to pick up her drink. "How's married life?"

"First of all, you look as gorgeous as ever." Toby said, at which Spencer snorted. She hadn't slept well in days, she was wearing a man's shirt and leggings, and she'd forgone her contacts for glasses, something she'd hardly ever done. She was hardly the poster child for preppy perfection. "And second…" There was a sad sort of hesitation and she knew before Toby could even speak. "He moved out last week." Toby finally concluded as he moved behind the bar. "Not really sure where it's going now, but…probably nowhere good."

"If you're back there to get me a refill, you should pour yourself one." Spencer said, sighing, crossing her arms on top of the bar. "You know what you do? You fight like hell, Toby. I mean, you love him, that's…that's worth fighting for." Even as she said it, her words felt hollow – she meant them, of course. But that strategy had backfired on her long ago.

"No offense, Spencer, but you're not exactly the person I want relationship advice from." Toby said, as he handed her another drink. "I'd be afraid to say that to anyone else, but you're smart and you have the distinct ability to recognize how much of a trainwreck you are."

"True." Spencer sighed. He was right, she couldn't even be mad at him. He was just being frighteningly honest. "I don't even know where I went wrong anymore, toby, to tell you the truth. I look back and all I see is wreckage. I can't even figure out where it started." She didn't normal like to talk about this stuff, but alcohol loosened her resolve, and she hadn't seen Toby in five years. It was time to talk.

"You gonna be okay tomorrow?" Toby asked, leaning on the bar in front of her.

"No." Spencer said instantly, shaking her head. "I'm not. In all honesty, I'm not even sure why I came back for it, I just…I guess I just love torturing myself or something." She shook her head, looking down at the bar. "Seeing Han – her again, it's going hurt, and I know that…so why did I come back?"

"You're asking the wrong person, Spencer." Toby sighed heavily. "I can't help you out there." He paused, looking pained. "You're not going to…you know, go back, right?"

"No." Spencer said, although it did take her a minute to answer. The thought of it, of being with her again, elicited a strange reaction, an odd combination between a shiver of desire and a shiver of imagined regret. "No, I don't think so. I don't hate myself that much…do I really strike you as that weak?"

Toby reached out, tucking an errant curl behind Spencer's ear. "You're the strongest person I know." He said softly. "Except when it comes to her."

"It is disgusting how well you know me, Mr. Cavanaugh." Spencer sighed, tracing an idle pattern against the grain of the bar. He was right. He was absolutely right. It didn't matter how strong she stood for something, she always bowed and broke for Hanna. It had gotten to the point where she no longer knew exactly what she stood for; only that Hanna had broken her. Only that she had bowed so much that she couldn't stand any longer. And maybe it was the same for Hanna too, she didn't know. Maybe she was just as bad for her, and they had achieved mutual destruction.

She could only hope.

"Well, we did date, Spencer. Or have you forgotten?" Toby teased, tipping up her chin with his fingertips. This pulled a genuine smile from her, and she laughed a little.

"I wish I could forget." She joked back, reaching forward and slapping his hand playfully. "It totally robs me of my cred when it comes to the ladies."

"Okay, I'm cutting you off after this." Toby said, shaking his head. "So are there any other ladies?"

"No one serious." Spencer said, shrugging. That was a whole other can of worms to open. (And the fact that she was comparing her love life to a can of worms only made her feel more depressed. "I was…well, I was kind of hoping to meet someone not so special here to give a tour of my hotel room to, if you know what I mean."

"You know, we have a strict 'no pick up artists' rule here." Toby said, raising an eyebrow.

"Mmm, you overestimate my talents." Spencer sighed. "I'm not kidding anyone, I should probably just go back to my room and drink alone. Then the outside will match the inside."

"You're too pretty to drink alone." Toby said. "Seriously. Spencer, you have the whole package…you know, minus the Hanna-shaped baggage, and that, I don't blame you for…you're smart, and you're funny in a morbidly sarcastic kind of way, and you have a good heart. There plenty of other women out there that will like you."

"Two things, Toby." Spencer sighed, spinning around on the barstool. "You're hardly an expert on women, and you're talking about me ten years ago. Not me now."

"The point is, it's still you. And you can have it back if you let it." Toby reasoned.

"The old me is the one that got hurt." Spencer glanced up at him from under her long eyelashes. "Why would I ever want that back?"

* * *

><p>Toby had eventually pointed her in the direction of a group of women in the corner who gathered at the bar every Friday night without fail, and most definitely shared her taste in women. (There had been incidents of sex in the bathroom, he had said, but she wasn't interested in that sort of hook-up. She wanted to at least make it back to her room, in the interest of feeling only marginally worse about herself, rather than ending up slumped against the bathroom stall, feeling like a slut.)<p>

As the night went on, she got more drunk, and felt worse and the better and then worse again in some sick cycle of highs and lows, and found herself, at one in the morning, in bed with a blonde stranger – they were always blondes. (When their heads were between her legs, she could always pretend, which would always ultimately lead to a later period of self-loathing, but she was always beyond the point of caring.) She always made it a point not to call out the wrong name, but she was _so_ drunk and so lost in the fantasy that she couldn't help it. "_Hanna…_" Her voice was hoarse, and her nails scraped scalp, and she didn't even know she'd done it until the blonde, (she still couldn't remember her damn name,) was halfway out the door.

She managed to catch up to her, taking her wrist and pulling her back and kissing her, trying to feel something more than just regret, than just baseline attraction, anything other than what she was feeling at the moment. But she didn't find it in the kiss, or the lines of her neck, the swell of her breasts, the curve of her hips. She didn't find it in the noises she made, or the nails digging into her shoulders, or the way her hips cantered upward when she flicked her tongue a certain way. Her cry at the end seemed hollow to Spencer, (they almost always did,) and even as she made a show of slowly sliding her tongue up this girl's stomach, dragging her fingertips along her lower back, the void in her chest only widened. The loneliness only felt more toxic, even as she laid next to her, watching her as she caught her breath.

She closed her eyes before the door shut, knowing that seeing her leave would only make her feel worse, it would only make her remember. But the dull sound of the door gliding shut was too sharp, too piercing for her to ignore. As much as she couldn't bear to admit it, she missed Hanna. For that, she didn't know who she could blame anymore, but as she laid there, she could only think that the reason she was alone right then and there was because she didn't have the courage to swallow her pride and make a simple phone call. (Although part of her knew that it was much more complicated than that.)

She cried herself to sleep.

* * *

><p>The next morning came with a wave of nausea and a slew of "Oh shit did I really do that's" crashing down on her. It wasn't until that afternoon that she managed to coax herself downstairs to nurse her hangover and her shame with a cup of coffee. It was a routine that she was mildly used to at this point, although not surrounded by hotel staff and the continental breakfast crowd, or in an uncomfortable chair with a lukewarm, mediocre cup of coffee. She would have made a Starbucks run, but decided against it – today was the big day of the class reunion, and her old classmates would be out in full force today. As much as she liked to believe she wouldn't give a damn about what she had become, she knew she did. And she wasn't about to go out there, into the minefield, hungover and looking and feeling like she'd just been hit by a truck.<p>

Being back in Rosewood threw into stark contrast how much, and yet how little had changed. She had a master's degree in Political Science. She had a job that would lead her to a position in the Mayor's office in New York City if her candidate won. She had a nice apartment, she had friends, she had a tank of fish, she paid bills…she was no longer a teenager, that was for sure.

But the instant she'd driven past the city limits, the instant she'd stepped foot into her parents' house, the instant that she had cried out for Hanna even though she wasn't there, she had felt like one. Felt like the same insecure, emotionally stunted, terrified and traumatized teenager that she had once been. And, really, only her situation had changed, not her. She still slept on the left side of the bed. She still took her coffee the same way. She was still terrified of thunderstorms when she was alone. (That was what the tank of fish had been for, although it hadn't helped much.)

And she had still managed to lose Hanna, somehow, like she had so many times years ago.

She sighed heavily, letting her aching head thunk back against the wall, closing her eyes to the sounds of the lobby. She shouldn't have come to begin with. She had known how bad it would be for her, she just hadn't expected it all to hit her this soon and this fast, and she could only imagine what the next two weeks of her stay in Rosewood would do to her psyche. It wouldn't leave it intact, that was for sure, and she was starting to wonder if she should risk it. There was so much damage up there, after everything, after A, after her parents, after Hanna, that she wasn't sure she could afford any more metaphorical hits.

"Hey, lady!" The sudden explosion of sound near her head made her jump, spilling coffee all down her front. (Thank God it wasn't hot, or she'd have been sporting a serious burn.) She swore somewhat loudly, shaking off her shirt before glancing around for the sound of the noise, regretting her outburst when she saw it was only a small boy, standing in front of her.

"I…sorry." She said, righting herself in the chair, setting the now empty coffee cup aside.

"I lost my mom." He said. He didn't seem all that upset, which led her to wonder of he was just an exceptionally brave little boy, or lying. "Can you help me find her?" He had dark hair and eyes, and was short – he looked to be about six, or maybe seven, and was dressed in a starched polo shirt and jeans, not exactly what she would have expected to see a young boy in, especially on a weekend.

"Tell you what, kid." Spencer said. "I'll sit right here with you until she comes looking, because I'm sure she's going out of her mind trying to find you, and I don't want to miss her."

"Okay." He said, sitting down in the chair across from her, his attitude and posture so chipper, she was afraid she was going to throw up, and not just from her hangover either. "My name's Liam."

"Liam…I'm Spencer." She sighed, sitting forward in her chair, pausing at a rush of dizziness.

"Spencer's a boy's name." Liam said, frowning. "Isn't it?"

"No, it's not." God, if she had a nickel for every time she'd heard that. "I'm a girl, and it's my name. So it's not just a boy's name…where was the last place you were with your mom?" She asked, wanting to get him out of her hair as soon as possible, even if he was cute – she was too hungover to play babysitter to some irresponsible woman's kid.

"Up at her room." Liam said, kicking his legs back and forth, his feet hitting her shins multiple times, although she didn't say anything. It required too much effort. "She said she'd be right there, and that I could go push the elevator button, and then the doors opened, so I got in, but they opened too soon or Mommy was late, so now I'm here and she's still upstairs."

"…don't you need to breathe, kid?" Spencer asked, taking in the entirety of his sentence.

Liam's brow furrowed, the entendre in her sentence clearly lost on him. He looked so familiar to her, with that expression especially, leading her to wonder which one of her former classmates was his parent. The thought of running into one of them before she was prepared made her stomach lurch, made her want to leave. But she couldn't very well abandon him. "Never mind." She sighed, trying to brush more of the spilled coffee off her shirt. "I'm sure she'll be down here soon, if she was just upstairs."

"Sorry about your shirt." He did sound genuinely sorry, and it was impossible to be mad at something that cute – she couldn't imagine being a mother, let alone being his mother, and responsible for punishing something that adorable. "Mommy hates it when I spill stuff on her clothes."

"Well…this isn't an important shirt anyway." She said. It wasn't. It was just one of the plaid shirts she slept in, although it had been her favorite. "Don't worry about it." She glanced down at Liam's small backpack, overflowing with action figures, and spotted the small Harry Potter logo emblazoned on the side. "You like Harry Potter, Liam?"

He nodded vigorously. "He's my _favorite._" He said dramatically, waving his hands in childish excitement, something that made Spencer smile. "You like Harry Potter too?"

Spencer nodded. "Yeah, I…I felt like he was my best friend when I was your age. Well, a little older than that, but…you get the point. I saw the movies when they were in theatres and everything. My parents didn't much like the books, though, but…" She shrugged. "I loved them anyway."

"My mommy reads them to me all the time." He got up off of his chair, bounding towards her. "I bet you like Hermione. You're a lot like her."

Spencer laughed a little. "Kiddo, you don't know the half of it." As much of an annoyance as his intrusion had seemed a little while ago, he was doing a lot to lift her spirits. "You remind me of Harry. You look a lot like him, in a way. Just give you some glasses and a little lightening scar, and you'll be his little doppelganger."

"Really?" He asked, lighting up. "I can't wait until I'm eleven and I can get my Hogwarts letter." He said, bouncing on his feet. "Sometimes kids at school make fun of me, but I know that I'll be able to hex them when I get back, so it's okay."

"Liam…you know that you'd get in huge trouble for hexing them right?" Even with the lightheartedness of the conversation, Spencer felt for the boy. She knew what it was like to have someone come after her, and to keep coming after her – she still felt that pain, even today, and although it was different what Liam was going through, it didn't make her any less sympathetic. "The Ministry of Magic would have them expelled. So when people make fun of you, just imagine yourself hexing them, okay? Think about how silly they'll look. And then you can just smile and ignore it because you're better than them."

"I was right." Liam said after a moment, beaming. "You _are_ like Hermione, you're super smart."

Before Spencer could respond, the lobby was suddenly full with the echo of heels against the marble floor, footsteps panicked and fraught. "Liam?! Liam! Oh thank God, there you are…"

"Mommy!" Liam bounded forward clumsily, tripping over his feet as he ran past Spencer to get to his mother. She smiled as she watched him, the expression suddenly falling from her features as she turned and laid eyes on Liam's mother.

"…Hanna?"

* * *

><p>AN: Look out for Hourglass, coming soon! Also an as of yet unnamed story detailing this new Toby development~ also, if you have any questions, submit them to my tumblr .com and I'll post them on here as a new chapter. (likewise if you want to rage at me, haha.) I am proud to finally mark this story complete :)


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